Riding the Dragon
by drakensis
Summary: January 3014. On Halstead Station, Hanse Davion for the first time faces the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine in battle. Neither is what the other expects and the future of the Inner Sphere is changed, forever. AU
1. Prologue

**Halstead Station, Ashio Prefecture  
Dieron District, Draconis Combine  
4 January 3014**

"What was that?" Hanse Davion exclaimed in disbelief, his tone sharp as he stood in the shade of his _Battlemaster_.

His distant cousin Jessica nodded to confirm her previous words. "The Coordinator is here. On this very planet. The message calls for a forty-eight hour ceasefire so that the two of you can talk privately."

"It has to be a trap."

Hanse glanced around the group. Ardan Sortek's opinion wasn't one likely to rouse dissent in the group, even if the Captain was by far the most junior officer present. The new First Prince had pulled the Seventeenth Avalon Hussars regiment away from its accompanying tank and infantry forces to bolster the Second Davion Guards in this attack, expecting to have at least a two to one advantage over any likely garrison at the new supply base. But if the Coordinator was here, and expecting him... "It's possible," he agreed. "But we might have caught Kurita on the hop as well. If we've caught him by surprise then maybe he's the one who thinks we have him mouse-trapped. If not, I'd expect him to be attacking by now."

The other Marshal, Addley Verner, was in his 'Mech so that a sneak attack couldn't wipe out the entire command group but he was able to participate over an encrypted radio. "Forty-eight hours isn't long enough to bring in reinforcements unless they're already en route."

"No one's in the system that we know of, but they could be planning to use one of the pirate points that we did."

Another good point from Ardan but Hanse didn't think he'd take the advice this time. He was curious. "Where does he want to meet me?"

Jessica used a swagger stick to point at a map spread out on the _Battlemaster_'s foot. "Right about there."

"No... I don't like that." Hanse tapped another point, this one closer to the ruins that were his primary goal here: ruins of a Star League era university that he didn't think that the Combine knew about yet. Or maybe they did. "We'll move along the river here and form up on the north bank. There's a ford here where the river bends, should be nice open ground on our side of the river. I'll meet him on the north shore at noon tomorrow. If things go wrong - well, we're two hundred kilometers closer to our objective."

"And two hundred kilometers further from our dropships," she pointed out.

"That's why he won't expect it."

**Halstead Station, Ashio Prefecture  
Dieron District, Draconis Combine  
5 January 3014**

The details had taken some planning but an hour before noon with the ground examined thoroughly by AFFS infantry, a DCMS convoy crossed the ford and with ostentatious care to ensure that they were clearly in view at all times, they set up a spacious pavilion next to the water before inviting Hanse to send an aide to ensure that no trickery had taken place. Ardan, despite his suspicions, had found nothing of note to report although he had been chagrined when all but one of the DCMS soldiers departed across the river, indicating that the exception must be the Coordinator.

However, when Hanse opened the flap of the tent, the only person present was a woman not many years his junior, wearing the heavy boots and abbreviated shorts and halter of a mechwarrior under an open-fronted robe elaborately embroidered with dragons. Having come directly from the field, the Prince wasn't wearing dress uniform himself but he was fairly sure that this was not Takashi Kurita.

"When will Takashi Kurita arrive?" he asked bluntly, not yet stepping inside. Was the woman an assassin?

She shook her head, lustrous black hair rippling. "As the Obon Festival was three days ago, my late cousin will not be present even in spirit, your highness."

What? Hanse scrambled mentally to address this situation. Takashi's son was sixteen - not an ideal age but the only other close relative he had had was his nephew Isoroku, himself only seventeen. But surely... there hadn't been a female Coordinator of the Draconis Combine in almost four hundred years.

"Please, come in and sit." The woman gestured towards the table. "There was an incident upon New Samarkand that you are perhaps unaware of. Our security is excellent, as you may be aware. Certain of House Kurita were invited onwards to explain their complicity to their ancestors and their victims. I gather that your own family is not entirely amicable with regard to your succession."

The reference to the recent assassination attempt - almost certainly Michael Hasek-Davion's doing - tightened Hanse's face but he stepped inside. "My condolences on your losses..." he offered, fishing for her name.

She bowed her head. "I offer my own, your brother was a formidable foe to my cousin but also a respected one. But I am being impolite. I am Cecilia Kurita and you, of course, are the famous Hanse Davion."

Cecilia... The prince searched his memory. Ah, the youngest grandchild of Hugai Kurita by his son Undell. That would make her Takashi's first cousin. Born around... twenty five, maybe twenty-six years ago and a graduate of the Sun Tzu School of Combat rather than the better known Sun Zhang academy. She'd hardly registered when he was last briefed on House Kurita's scions, something that he suspected he might now regret.

"Your invitation said you wanted to talk, Coordinator. In my culture, ladies go first."

"In mine the Coordinator speaks first, a pleasing convergence," she observed, crossing her legs. Hanse was uncomfortably reminded she was not the middle-aged samurai he had expected. Don't be a damn fool, he thought. She's a Kurita.

"We both know the implications of the supply centre that has been established here," Cecilia observed. "I am not surprised that you would order an attack. However, while I would have anticipated the presence of your brother at the head of his soldiers, your reputation suggests you would not unless there was something more valuable here."

She knows!

She nodded. "Yes, the university ruins and the vault discovered within them. My engineers haven't quite cracked it yet, we don't want to risk damage to the contents. For this reason I am here along with the First and Seventh Sword of Light regiments."

Hanse calculated briefly. The two regiments were the equivalent of his own Davion Guards. The Seventeenth Avalon Hussars were a good regiment, but not quite equivalent - particularly since the Sword of Light regiments were typically reinforced with a fourth battalion. While he could probably rely on a slight advantage in tanks and infantry, it was a close match and edged slightly to favour the defenders.

"Under these circumstances, I have a good chance of defeating you - perhaps even seeing you perish as your brother did," Cecilia continued calmly. "As you might imagine, such a feat would do much to elevate me in the eyes of my countrymen."

"Then why talk?"

She made a sharp gesture. "Because I am thinking larger than that." Her tongue darted along her lips, a hint of nervousness that Hanse was pleased to see. She's as new to this as I am. "You have an heir in your nephew and your realm would be intact. I might have a momentary advantage - enough to take one or even two war torn worlds away from you perhaps. In the end, what difference would that make?"

"Quite a lot for the people on those worlds."

"I grant your point, but in the long run? Two hundred and thirty years of war and our borders are no more than thirty light years from where they started, with gains and losses just about even. How much of our people's wealth and lives were spent to accomplish so little?"

Hanse nodded. "A great number. Of course, without both our efforts to that effect, one or the other of us might have won by now."

"We're evenly matched, in other words." Cecilia raised her index finger and then pointed it at Hanse like a gun. "I've heard that you're an educated man. Are you familiar with the prisoner's dilemma?"

"They both stay quiet and neither goes to jail. One gives evidence for immunity and the other takes the full blame and full punishment. Or both betray the other and they both get a slightly lesser punishment."

"Exactly." She lowered her finger. "Our nations have the strongest militaries in the Inner Sphere. If we weren't at each other's throats all the time, what could we accomplish?"

It was a good point but the corollary was obvious. "And if one of us 'gives evidence' then the other one is going to take a beating that would make John Davion flinch in sympathy," he replied, referencing the ancestor who had died fighting against a DCMS offensive that had driven almost to New Avalon precisely because the Draconis March had been stripped in favour of the Capellan March.

"Both our armies were twice the size back then and we had navies worthy of the name," she pointed out. "Which probably hasn't affected your overall capability much since back then - as we're being honest - the AFFS was less of a threat than the Lyrans and their navy was worse."

"And the DCMS was ready to carry out the Kentares Massacre."

She paused at that and looking at her face Hanse felt slightly guilty for using that particular incident against her. But not very guilty. It was the truth after all.

"Very well," Cecilia agreed after a long, empty moment. "What you say is true. But it has to end somewhere."

"What do you suggest?"

She leant forward and Hanse couldn't help but notice how much skin was bared. He was a mature adult and a mechwarrior, not unused to women dressed like this, but most of the time there was a cooling vest to provide more coverage and hide curves. Current court fashions weren't that revealing either. "Let's start here."

"What do you want, a hug?"

Cecilia gave him a long look. "Maybe later. I was thinking we could share whatever is in the cache."

"We don't even know what's in there." Is she flirting with me! Hanse thought incredulously. Her Warlords would kill her if they found out. Aaron Sandoval would probably try to kill me if he was here.

"Then let's find out." She gave him a challenging look. "There's always tomorrow if we decide we'd rather kill each other."

Hanse considered that. If things went badly at least his forces would be closer to their objectives. Granted, so would the Sword of Light, but it saved having to fight across hundreds of kilometers to reach the ruins. "Alright." He couldn't help but think that this might be a trap but something - hormones, possibly - told him that this wasn't a military trap. Perhaps political, but not military.

**Halstead Station, Ashio Prefecture  
Dieron District, Draconis Combine  
6 January 3014**

There was something deeply unnatural about watching combat engineers from both armies work together to open the vault that had been uncovered in constructing the depot. The soldiers could feel it as well, but under the eyes of their monarchs they simply carried out their jobs with a minimum of conversation even amongst their own contingents.

Senior officers did not seem to feel that they were under the same constraints however.

"Sire, do I really need to list the ways that this is a bad idea?"

A battalion of the Davion Guards and the Sword of Light were boxing in the site with less than a kilometer between them. Each was spearhead to battle groups that if they started a fight would level the entire site more or less incidentally. And in the middle, on foot, were two platoons of combat engineers, two platoons of body-guards and about the same number of staff officers from both sides.

"No Ardan, you don't. But the rewards are worth the risk."

"I still can't believe that she's the Coordinator." A decade younger than his prince, Ardan was no more immune to Cecilia Kurita's good looks, plainly visible even across the site from where she stood. She wore the black tunic and pants of a senior DCMS officer, but unlike those clustered around her, a red mantle hung from her shoulders, marking her as the Coordinator. Similarly, with no intention that fighting begin today, Hanse had ordered his own officers out of battledress and they wore the dark green jacket and pants of their dress uniforms although none had donned the heavy sunburst vests that usually went with them.

Hanse nodded in response. "I'm not sure all of her people believe it," he agreed as one of the officers around the young Coordinator started to express himself in a loud and angry voice. "Can anyone make that out?"

An officer with the rank and branch insignia of an infantry Captain cocked his head. "He objects to our presence and is comparing the Coordinator's judgment unfavorably to that of her predecessor."

"No surprise there then." Hanse watched Cecilia's reaction. She appeared bored by the rant, something that was stoking the samurai to red-faced fury. Then she raised one hand, snapped her fingers and pointed at the officer with the same finger she had aimed at Hanse the previous day.

There was a gunshot.

Cecilia did not appear concerned or even particularly interested in the collapsing corpse of the man who had been haranguing her. In fact, her expression remained as bored as before, although she did start to speak.

"What is she saying?"

The captain cleared his throat. "'As the Dragon I encourage you at appropriate times and always in a respectful manner to question my logic. If you're unconvinced that a particular plan I've decided is the wisest, tell me so. I promise you here and now no subject will ever be taboo.'"

Ardan's jaw dropped. "She just had that guy shot for disagreeing with her and now she says it's okay for them to do that? What a snake!"

"Sometimes, Ardan, it's what a Drac' doesn't say that matters."

"That's correct," agreed the infantryman - actually part of the expedition's military intelligence section. "She said it was okay for someone to query her politely and at a proper time. The implication is that she didn't execute the man for what he said, but for how or when he said it."

"It's still not going to make her popular."

"The Coordinator rarely is and as a woman she will be much less so. But it reinforces discipline and thereby strengthens her position. Remember, the Coordinator might legally be an absolute ruler but in practice her authority will depend on her ability to impose her will on those around her."

"Ah. Like you and Hasek-Davion?"

"It's a little more blatant than that, but basically," Hanse agreed. Ardan wasn't stupid, after all.

There was a boom from the vault entrance as the DCMS engineers used the holes they had been drilling to blow open part of the doorframe. "Sounds like they're making progress," he continued as an AFFS squad moved up with a jack to start forcing the door open.

**Halstead Station, Ashio Prefecture  
Dieron District, Draconis Combine  
6 January 3014**

Strictly speaking the engineers had been the first into the vault, but they had only flashed torches around briefly to check there were no signs of booby traps or an incipient collapse. Hanse was barely able to restrain himself from rushing in after them. It was worse than Christmas when he was a boy: he'd usually had some idea what his family would be giving him, but this was a genuine mystery.

The moment he received an all-clear Hanse scrambled down into the vault in an undignified fashion, taking a powerful torch from one of the engineers. Behind him he heard footsteps as others crowded after him but ignoring them he snapped on the torch and played it over the contents.

Shelves. Dozens of shelves.

And stacked on them were treasures more valuable than gold or diamonds.

There was a low whistle from Ardan at the sight of thousands of books and computer memory cubes.

"I would have to agree," Cecilia observed in a reverential tone. "This has to be the greatest find in hundred years."

"Perhaps the largest since the Dead Sea scrolls," agreed Hanse, walking forwards to examine the shelves more closely. "Except these aren't literature or history. This is technical material."

"I think there's some of the former." She flashed her own torch around, the beam casting strange shadows on the dust-covered walls. "But I don't imagine that it would have been prioritised for a secret stash like this."

"The greatest prize we could ever fight over, and I agreed to split it." Hanse couldn't help but laugh. Even half of this was beyond price.

There was only the slightest scrape of metal against leather to start Hanse turning before he heard the MilInt officer speak: "That won't be necessary, your highness."

Reflexively Hanse threw himself aside before he realised that the laser wasn't aimed at him and that his attempt to dodge had actually thrown him into the weapons path. There was a burning pain from his right forearm, which almost instantly exploded in agony as he landed on the injured limb.

The boom of Ardan's sidearm gave him something to focus on and as he rolled over he saw the treacherous gunman fall, blood fountaining from what had been his head. There was a metal ornament jutting from below the man's waist and it took Hanse a moment to focus and recognise it as the hilt of a knife.

"Medic!" snapped a sharp voice he recognised as Cecilia a moment before she moved into his field of view, catching his right arm before it flopped onto the ground. "I see your arm," she told him. "Were you hit anywhere else?"

"I don't think so." Hanse looked up as a dozen bodyguards tried to jostle their way through the limited access to the vault, DCMS and AFFS rubbing shoulders heedlessly. "One of yours?"

"I don't know," she replied, producing a small knife from her sleeve and slashing open the arm of his jacket with a smooth gesture. Contrary to popular belief, laser wounds do not self-cauterize. "But he was aiming at me so it appears I owe my life to your gallantry."

One of the soldiers almost provoked a crisis, aiming his carbine at the Coordinator. "Drop the knife!"

"Put your gun down!" Ardan snapped as Cecilia stared coolly at what had all the potential of a further bloodbath. "The Coordinator just helped me kill an assassin and she's tending the Prince's wound."

A man in the elaborate robes adopted by the mystics of the Physicians of the Dragon pushed aside the infantryman, DCMS soldiers making respectful room for him. Cecilia moved aside for him to examine the injury. Mumbling a prayer, the surgeon examined the wound. "This is not life threatening," he assured Hanse after a moment. "Bear the pain bravely and with the Blessing of the Dragon you will recover quickly."

Hanse rolled his eyes. He knew the Physicians of the Dragon were perfectly capable surgeons but had no patience with their superstitious mumblings.

"This man threw himself in the path of a shot meant for me. Clearly he lacks neither courage, nor the blessing of the Dragon." There were gasps from soldiers on both sides at Cecilia's announcement.

**Halstead Station, Ashio Prefecture  
Dieron District, Draconis Combine  
6 January 3014**

Hanse had been prescribed painkillers but had left the pills in his tent. For some things, traditional remedies were best and he'd been keeping two bottles of brandy in his Mech for the next time he saw Ian. One had seen him through the night he'd heard of his brother's death. This seemed as good a time as any to finish off the other one.

"I hope you didn't take your medicine before drinking that," a newly-familiar voice chastised him as he sat on the foot of his 'Mech and poured out a second glass.

"What are you, my mother?" he asked, craning his neck around to see a cloaked figure kneeling in the shadow cast by the _Battlemaster_'s ankle.

Cecilia laughed and held up a bottle just far enough for him to see the label describing it as plum brandy. "Hardly. I just don't like drinking alone."

Hanse stood and moved to join her, placing the glass in front of her before sitting on the grass next to her. Fishing into a pocket, he produced a thick plastic evidence bag containing the knife that had been embedded in the assassin's groin. "Yours, I think."

"Thank you." She opened the bag and stashed the weapon somewhere about her person.

"I have to wonder though - a gun would have stopped him faster."

Cecilia chuckled and picked up the glass of brandy, sipping the contents appreciatively. "I barely qualified with small arms at school but I'm quite good with a _kunai_."

"Oh?" He couldn't imagine that was part of the usual education of a Kurita princess.

"I was the most terrible tomboy," she admitted, brushing back her hood. "I wanted to be a ninja, or failing that, to join DEST. With a child's romanticised notion of both, of course. And since I didn't meet DEST qualifications, being one of the Coordinator's samurai and defending the Combine that way was an achievable ambition. I'm still sneaky though, witness my presence on your side of the camp."

"Ah. What unit?"

"_Tai-i_ Cecilia Kurita, acting commander, Fourth Battalion of the First Proserpina Hussars," she said, bowing slightly. "I might even have been confirmed as _Sho-sa_ next year if Marcus wasn't an ambitious idiot."

Marcus was - had been, presumably - her oldest brother, the Commander of Takashi's bodyguard regiment the Otomo and a former Warlord of Rasalhague. Hanse didn't have any difficulty believing that he might have tried to murder his cousins of the Kurita principal lineage in order to elevate himself to Coordinator. The only surprise was that he had half-succeeded.

He wouldn't pretend at false sympathy, besides he'd already offered his condolences yesterday, but her admission seemed to call for something on his part. "You realise I wasn't trying to take the shot instead of you."

Cecilia nodded in reply and drained the glass. "Of course. Neither of us had the time for that - I'm impressed enough you could do anything before he shot - you must have reflexes like a cat. But my version made for a better story. I didn't hear you contradict me earlier."

Hanse refilled her glass and then drank from the bottle. "As you say, it's a good story. Very... romantic. Almost half my officers don't think I should shoot you. Drag you to New Avalon in chains perhaps..."

"Whips and chains do not excite me," she told him drily.

"... that's good to know." He cleared his throat. "So how should we divide the spoils?"

"Well the simplest way would be for one of us to divide it into two halves and the other picks who gets which half. It keeps us both relatively honest."

"Sounds fair."

"True. But lacks a certain drama."

"Drama?" The bottle had ample brandy left to refill her glass once more, so Hanse did so and then raised the bottle to his lips again. "This isn't exactly a production of Shakespeare."

Cecilia drank from the glass while he drained the bottle of all but the dregs. "And yet how did your Bard put it: 'all the world's a stage'? This is politics, dear prince. The grandest stage for theatre and if we don't put on a show then being booed off of it might have terminal consequences."

"Should we fight a duel over it?"

He was rewarded for that proposal with a dazzling smile. "I like the way you think, Hanse. Maybe if you divide the books, I divide the memory cubes and the winner of the duel gets first and third selection out of the four groups."

"Well since we're being so friendly... sure," Hanse agreed before shifting position to discard the almost empty bottle gave his right arm a chance to remind him that he wasn't entirely ready for battle at the moment. "How about next week when my arm's healed?"

"How about the day after tomorrow and I'll grant you a twenty-five ton weight advantage?" She removed the cork from her bottle of plum brandy. "It gives us a day to divide up the contents of the vault and to recover from our hangovers." She poured a good measure into her glass and handed it to him.

Hanse accepted it cautiously with his left hand. "This is strong?" he asked, sniffing at it.

"It'll put steel in your spine," she assured him. "Along with other parts of your anatomy."

"Wha-" he began and then watched in bemusement as she placed her lips around the neck of the bottle and all but sucked a healthy measure out of it. "Coordinator are you trying to seduce me?"

Although she remained on her knees, Cecilia raised herself upright. "We are the masters of hostile nations, Hanse. The last marriage between our Houses led to a war even in the age of the Star League. And we have just agreed to face each other in a duel that could easily kill one of us. To desire you as a lover under these circumstances would be madness."

Then she leant forwards, propping herself up on one hand as she met his eyes with no more than two yards between them. "Now I have a question for you, First Prince."

"Oh."

"Is it working?"

Hanse swallowed, although there was no brandy in his mouth. "Cecilia, this is a very bad idea."

"Apocalyptically so, but you are avoiding the question." She shuffled herself closer, eyes intent like those of a hunter.

A mouthful of plum brandy didn't help his mind work but it did loosen his tongue. "_Why_."

"Hatred has a reason for everything." She took the glass out of his hand and placed it carelessly on the grass, not caring that it tipped over and spilled the contents. "But love is _unreasonable_."

"I can't _marry_ you," he protested, placing his hands on Cecilia's shoulders to halt the woman when she leant closer to kiss him.

Cecilia took his left wrist and firmly pushed it aside, knowing that Hanse's right arm couldn't stop her in its current injured state. "Hanse, I can't promise you more than _tonight_," she pointed out regretfully and then closed the last distance between them.

**Halstead Station, Ashio Prefecture  
Dieron District, Draconis Combine  
8 January 3014**

Hanse cursed as he twisted his _Battlemaster_ for what felt like the thousandth time, trying to bring his weapons to bear on his elusive adversary. As he'd guessed from her comment about 'spotting him twenty-five tons', Cecilia piloted one of the Combine's trademark _Dragon_ heavy 'Mechs, albeit the variation known as a _Grand Dragon_. Little more than two-thirds the mass of his own machine and with less than two-thirds the armour that sounded like the odds favoured him, but any Mechwarrior knew that things were rarely as clean-cut as that.

The open ground decided on for the duel was allowing Cecilia to wring out every ounce of the _Grand Dragon_'s greater speed and agility pushing it further than he had thought possible. Even worse, Hanse's _Battlemaster_ was a D model, trading short-ranged missiles and rear-firing lasers for more armour and heatsinks. Unfortunately, that left an arc of almost sixty degrees behind his left shoulder that only the machine guns in his 'Mech's left arm could bear on and Cecilia was proving infernally good at keeping herself both in that arc and outside the reach of the machine guns.

"Hanse, you need to get around and bring your weapons to bear on her," Ardan urged him over the radio.

"Tell me something I don't already know!" He regretted taking out his frustration on his friend. "Sorry Ardan, but I can't just hop around the way your _Victor_ does."

Breaking into a run straight forwards - and therefore directly away from his opponent - Hanse jammed one foot into the earth and pivoted the massive Battlemech to his right, hoping that he would be able to turn faster than Cecilia could circle around him.

It wasn't the first time he'd tried the tactic - sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. In this case it did bring his opponent into view but Cecilia had backed away, meaning that between them they'd opened the range past five hundred metres and his medium lasers wouldn't be any use. The big Donal PPC in his 'Mech's right fist fired a coherent beam across the distance handily though, and left a satisfactory scar in the armour over the left side of the _Grand Dragon_'s angled chest.

Then he was rattled around in his straps as explosions blossomed around Hanse's canopy and his display fuzzed into unintelligible static. He knew what that meant - it had happened just a few minutes before - Cecilia had managed to deliver a flight of long range missiles directly into his face. He didn't think he was being dismissive to call it luck: while Cecilia had demonstrated an impressive ability to out-maneuver him, her gunnery wasn't remarkable.

Fortunately for the distraction caused by the missiles, the Coordinator had elected not to fire her own PPC. Most likely she was having to manage her heat carefully, Hanse understood that it was an issue with the _Grand Dragon_ that many DCMS warriors had trouble with, being used to the cool-running _Dragon_.

When his display failed to clear, he glanced at the secondary systems monitor and snarled. The main sensors were out, and so was his radio. Worse, the armour around the cockpit was completely compromised. If Cecilia managed to land another hit on it then he'd die and while the odds were against it happening, she'd been luckier than he liked. Combined with her skill...

Okay, he was going to concede. But how? He didn't have a radio and just retreating would make the wrong impression. He couldn't believe that he was worrying about appearances when his life was on the line, clearly Cecilia's insanity was contagious.

Hmm. Maybe that would work. Punching two controls, he cleared the display, leaving himself piloting only by what he could see out of the canopy, and released the Donal PPC from the hand of his Battlemaster.

Ahead of him he could see the _Grand Dragon_ hesitate as it raised its PPC to fire a shot into him. Focusing on using the gyro to keep the assault Mech balanced, Hanse tilted the _Battlemaster_;s torso forward in a shallow bow aware that by doing so he was leaving the cockpit even more exposed.

When he looked up he saw that the _Grand Dragon_'s arm was raised vertically in triumphant salute. Sharply it brought the arm down and then bowed towards him, exactly as far as he had done.

**Halstead Station, Ashio Prefecture  
Dieron District, Draconis Combine  
9 January 3014**

"Congratulations on winning the duel," Hanse told Cecilia. There were a hundred other things he wanted to say, but there wasn't enough privacy with which to say them. Even thought they were sitting alone at a small table at the edge of the AFFS camp, at least a hundred soldiers had them in view.

She nodded serenely. "You fought with great honour, Prince Davion. The more so because you recognised when there was nothing more to gain and chose not to fight."

"What would you have done if I'd kept fighting?"

"Cursed you for a fool, prayed to the gods and then aimed low."

"It's good to know you had a plan."

"I always have plans, your highness. They don't always work but I always have them." Cecilia glanced over to where Hanse's share of the Halstead Station library was being loaded onto a dropship. "Four days ago we agreed to share the cache and we would appear to have succeeded in that. Have you given any thought to the rest of my proposal?"

Hanse nodded his head. "I have. Let's take another step together. When I get back to the Federated Suns, I'll order an immediate ceasefire. No attacks, not even a raid, on the worlds controlled by the Draconis Combine as long as you do the same. Let's see how well that works out."

From the knowing smile on Cecilia's face she had some idea how difficult it would be to persuade Aaron Sandoval and his Marshals that they should refrain from baiting the Dragon. Then again, she'd have to convince three Warlords to do the same so perhaps that wasn't surprising.

"Thank you, your highness," she replied and then lowered her voice slightly. "Perhaps we can afford one more step."

"Another step? Are you sure the universe can survive such drastic reconciliation between our realms?"

To Hanse's surprise, Cecilia smirked at the feeble joke. "I know a few people who might not survive it," she observed. "We both have half the library, but data can be copied. Once we've had a chance to take stock of our respective information why don't we exchange copies. That way we'll both have complete copies... or at least complete except for any little secrets we might hold back."

"Are you suggesting I'd be anything less than honest?" asked Hanse, a look of offended hauteur on his face. He managed to maintain the demeanor while the corners of Cecilia's lips twitched furiously but couldn't help but chuckle as a giggle escaped her at the effrontery of the remark.

They had to quickly restore their composure as Jessica Davion approached. "Your highness, we're ready to load your 'Mech."

Looking around, Hanse saw soldiers striking camp. The tanks had been first to load and then the bulk of the battlemech regiments. Now that the infantry were packing, only the perimeter force of two Avalon Hussar companies remained on guard while the force prepared to depart.

"I suppose this is goodbye then," Hanse said, standing.

Cecilia bowed her head. "_Sayonara_ Davion Hanse-_san_." Then she rose sharply and turned her back on him, returning to the staff car that waited, surrounded by a light lance of _Panther_s.

"She's not the average Snake, is she?" Jessica observed.

"No," the First Prince agreed thoughtfully. "She isn't."

**Equivalent Officer Ranks in Inner Sphere Militaries, 3020s**

SLDF / DCMS / AFFS / CCAF / FWLM / LCAF

General / Tai-shu / Field Marshal / Senior Colonel / Marshal / General

Major General / Tai-sho / Marshal / _n/a_ / General / Kommandant-General

_n/a_ / _n/a_ / Major General / _n/a_ / _n/a_ / Hauptmann-General

Lieutenant General / Sho-sho / Leftenant General / _n/a_ / _n/a_ / Leutenant-General

Colonel / Tai-sa / Colonel / Regimental Colonel / Colonel / Colonel

Lieutenant-Colonel / Chu-sa / Leftenant Colonel / _n/a_ / Lieutenant Colonel / Leutenant-Colonel

_n/a_ / _n/a_ / _n/a_ / _n/a_ / _n/a_ / Hauptmann-Kommandant

Major / Sho-sa / Major / Major / Force Commander / Kommandant

Captain / Tai-i / Captain / Captain / Captain / Hauptmann

Lieutenant / Chu-i / Leftenant / Commander / Lieutenant (senior grade) / First Leutenant

_n/a_ / _n/a_ / _n/a_ / Subcommander / Lieutenant (junior grade) / Leutenant

**Glossary**

AUTOCANNON

The autocannon is a rapid-firing autoloading weapon. Light vehicle autocannon range from 30 to 90 mm caliber, while heavy 'Mech autocannon may be 80 to 120 mm or more. The weapon fires high-speed streams of highexplosive, armor-piercing shells. Because of the limitations of 'Mech targeting technology, the autocannon's effective anti-'Mech range is limited to less than 600 meters.

BATTLEMECH

BattleMechs are the most powerful war machines ever built. First developed by Terran scientists and engineers more than 500 years ago, these huge, man-shaped vehicles are faster, more mobile, better armored, and more heavily armed than any 20th-century tank. Ten to twelve meters tall and equipped with particle projection cannons, lasers, rapidfire autocannon, and missiles, they pack enough firepower to flatten anything but another BattleMech. A small fusion reactor provides virtually unlimited power, and BattleMechs can be adapted to fight in environments ranging from sunbaked deserts to subzero arctic icefields.

COMSTAR

ComStar, the interstellar communications network, was the brainchild of Jerome Blake, formerly Minister of Communications during the latter years of the Star League. After the League's fall, Blake seized Terra and reorganized what was left of the League's communications network into a private organization that sold its services to the five Successor Houses for a profit. Since that time, ComStar has also developed into a powerful, secret society steeped in mysticism and ritual. Initiates to the ComStar Order commit themselves to lifelong service.

JUMPSHIPS AND DROPSHIPS

JumpShip

Interstellar travel is accomplished via JumpShips, first developed in the 22nd century. Named for their ability to 'jump' instantaneously from one point to another, the vessels consist of a long, thin drive core and an enormous sail. The sail is constructed from a specially coated polymer that absorbs vast quantities of electromagnetic energy from the nearest star. Energy collected by the sail is slowly transferred to the drive core, which converts it into a spacetwisting field. After making its jump, the ship cannot travel again until it has recharged its drive with solar energy at its new location. Safe recharge times range from six to eight days.

JumpShips travel instantaneously across vast interstellar distances by means of the Kearny-Fuchida hyperdrive. The K-F drive generates a field around the JumpShip, then opens a hole into hyperspace. In moments, the JumpShip is transported through to its new destination, across distances of up to 30 light years.

Jump points are the locations within a star system where the system's gravity is next to nothing, the prime prerequisite for operation of the K-F drive. The distance away from the system's star is dependant on that star's mass, and is usually many tens of millions of kilometers away. Every star has two principal jump points, one at the zenith point at the star's north pole, and one at the nadir point at the south pole. An infinite number of other jump points also exist, but they are used only rarely.

JumpShips never land on planets, and only rarely travel into the inner parts of a star system. Interplanetary travel is carried out by DropShips, vessels that attach themselves to the JumpShip until arrival at the jump point. Most of the

JumpShips currently in service are already centuries old, because the Successor Lords are unable to construct many new ones each year. For this reason, there is an unspoken agreement among even these bitter enemies to leave one another's JumpShips alone.

DropShip

Because JumpShips generally remain at a considerable distance from a star system's inhabited worlds, DropShips were developed for interplanetary travel. A DropShip attaches to hard points on the JumpShip, and will later be dropped from the parent vessel after entry into a system. DropShips are highly maneuverable, well-armed, and sufficiently aerodynamic to take off from and land on a planetary surface.

LRM

LRM is an abbreviation for "Long-Range Missile," an indirect-fire missile with a high-explosive warhead.

PPC

PPC is the abbreviation for "Particle Projection Cannon," a magnetic accelerator firing high-energy proton or ion bolts, causing damage both through impact and high temperature. PPCs are among the most effective weapons available to BattleMechs.

SRM

SRM is the abbreviation for "Short-Range Missiles," direct trajectory missiles with high-explosive or armorpiercing explosive warheads.

STAR LEAGUE

In 2571, the Star League was formed in an attempt to peacefully ally the major star systems inhabited by the human race after it had taken to the stars. The League continued and prospered for almost 200 years, until the Succession Wars broke out in the late 28th century. The League was eventually destroyed when the ruling body known as the High Council disbanded in the midst of a struggle for power. Each of the Council Lords then declared himself First Lord of the Star League, and within months, war had engulfed the Inner Sphere. These centuries of continuous war are now known simply as the Succession Wars, and continue to the present day. As a result, much of the technology that had brought mankind to its highest level of advancement has been destroyed, lost, or forgotten.

SUCCESSOR LORDS

Each of the five Successor States is ruled by a family descended from one of the original Council Lords of the old Star League. All five royal House Lords claim the title of First Lord, and they have been at each other's throats since the beginning of the Succession Wars in the late 28th century. Their battleground is the vast Inner Sphere, which is composed of all the star systems once occupied by the Star League member-states.


	2. Chapter One

**Radstadt, Radstadt Prefecture  
Alshain District, Draconis Combine  
15 June 3020**

The Coordinator granted Yorinaga Kurita audience in the gardens of the palace that was maintained for her a short distance from the Prefectural government buildings. The gardens were exquisite and Yorinaga could see subtle changes that had taken place over the years since his first visit. That had been on the company of Takashi Kurita of course.

A flick of Cecilia Kurita's fingers instructed her guards to leave her alone with the disgraced _Tai-sa_. The men backed away reluctantly - Yorinaga was renowned as a swordsman and although personally unarmed there was the possibility that he might attempt to seize the daisho that rested on a stand next to the sitting Coordinator.

"What am I going to do with you, _Tai-sa_ Kurita?"

The Mechwarrior cleared his throat. "I request permission to join my ancestors, _Tono_."

"That would be convenient in many ways," she agreed but did not look up and made no sign to indicate she would release him to follow through on his words. "While your own loyalty has been without fault, there are many who feel that you should hold my office. You are after all, perhaps the most gifted Mechwarrior of your generation."

"The skills of a leader are not merely those of a samurai, _Tono_. Your conquest of Tamar was masterful and brought silence among those who had doubted you." And Cecilia's suppression of the Ronin that opposed her decision to form an autonomous prefecture of Rasalhague - granting seventeen worlds civil independence from the Combine as long as they provided three Battlemech regiments and eight other regiments for the DCMS - had ensured that she was fully in control of the DCMS. Yorinaga was among the few aware that Cecilia had not only permitted but secretly enabled Mies Kurita to gather her fiercest critics amongst the junior officers of the DCMS into the Eighth, Twentieth and Twenty-Second Rasalhague Regulars, correctly deducing that her distant cousin would lose control of the regiments and give her the opportunity to crush them in a single stroke.

"Some of them, perhaps." Now she looked up and met his eyes firmly. "Six years ago, I also fought a duel, Yorinaga-_san_. My adversary was not so skilled as yours, but when he conceded we both accepted that it was a concession that the issue had been decided rather than a surrender of his person. In principle, the Dictum Honorium recognises that prisoners may be taken rather than executed if it is in the greater interest of the Dragon that they be spared and therefore to permit the escape of the Kell Hounds is tolerable if it later serves the Dragon."

"If you feel that you must end your life then, then although I disagree I shall not forbid it. Send for your swords and for your son, that he may serve as your _kaishaku_."

Emotion flashed through Yorinaga's eyes. A master of kenjutsu he owned scores of swords but her request could only mean the ancestral swords of his house. And as he and Cecilia both knew: "_Tono_ I no longer possess those swords."

"How unfortunate." Cecilia stood, although she still had to look upwards at the lean mechwarrior. "In that case, Yorinaga-_san_, I do not believe that I can grant your request. Still, if your son were to retrieve those weapons then all things may become possible. Until then, I suggest you consider visiting Echo."

"Echo?"

She nodded in confirmation. "In Bjarred Prefecture. Urizen Kurita founded a monastery there hundreds of years. The yellow bird that you warned me of has flown to such a place, far from the Combine."

"And the Kell Hounds?"

The Coordinator smiled blandly at Yorinaga until he lowered his eyes in apology for the brusque demand for information. "Scattered. His brother has maintained a combined arms battalion but most have elected to join other mercenary companies. The ISF has been advised that they are of interest to me."

"My apologies, _Tono_, that I shall not be able to serve you for the remainder of your campaign here."

The answer surprised him however. "This campaign is over, Yorinaga-_san_."

Yorinaga frowned. The attack on Tamar by the Kell Hounds and Winfield's Brigade had delayed the planned operations to seize Bessarabia and Kobe, which would have completed the Combine's grip upon the region. However now that the attack had been repelled, the regiments involved in the fighting had been readily resupplied and should be more than ready to resume operations.

"Katrina Steiner has made the most remarkable proposal," she revealed. "I have offered a six month ceasefire and the release of those prisoners that have not been disposed of so that we may meet and discuss it at a neutral location."

"There are those who would criticise you for accepting such an offer when we hold such an advantage."

"Military advantage can be fleeting, Yorinaga-_san_. The ISF have advised me that Katrina Steiner has paid a vast fortune for the services of Wolf's Dragoons over the next two years, with the condition that they not be required to fight against their former employers in House Marik. I imagine that the arrival of five fresh regiments on the Lyran border might rather hinder our operations in the immediate future."

**Grand Canal Hotel, Hella Basin  
Mars, Solar System  
14 August 3020**

Since its restoration in 3015 the Grand Canal Hotel had resumed its position catering to the top percentage of Mars' tourist trade. Only a handful of people knew that the principal financers had been the Order of the Five Pillars, and while some of those people were doubtless in ROM, only two people in the universe knew for certain that the Order had been acting on the request of Cecilia Kurita.

The sudden arrival of two House Lords and the impending arrival of a third had shocked even the famously blasé staff of the hotel, who had rushed to make ready the upper floor of each wing for the First Prince and the soon-to-arrive Archon. Their surprise was mitigated somewhat by smugness at their Terran rivals who had been expecting to host the three Lords and been deprived of the prestige as a result of the sudden change of plans.

The hotel's penthouse housed the Coordinator and her immediate companions and it was to here that Hanse Davion was ushered within an hour of his arrival. Six and a half years had left marks on both of them, but seeing Cecilia took Hanse back to a tent on Halstead Station and it was a moment before he realised that she had her hair up and wore a formal kimono. Her smile though, that had not changed in the least.

"The Prince and I will talk in private," she instructed with noticeable emphasis on the last word, dismissing the household staff. "We are not to be disturbed, even if the building is on fire."

"Even if it is _under_ fire," Hanse added grimly.

Cecilia gave Hanse a sidelong look once the door closed. "I promise that that means real privacy. There were about a dozen bugs and other surveillance devices when I arrived, some of which will be studied at New Samarkand when I return home." Hanse knew that the reconstruction of New Samarkand University had been one of Cecilia's major projects, a conscious parallel to his own establishment of the New Avalon Institute of Science.

"I imagine there will be more in my quarters then."

"Oh absolutely, both the ISF and ComStar will have been assiduous there." Cecilia ran one finger along the moulding of a floor lamp's stand. "Hoff and Mallory's World... Hanse, I'm truly sorry."

"Marduk was as bad," he admitted. The unauthorised raid had wreaked havoc on the industrial world, probably killing more in the long run than the bloody raids upon the two Draconis March worlds. Had it not been for the very publicised executions of every officer ranked _Chu-i_ and up in the regiments responsible he might not have been able to push through the court martial of Stephen Davion, the man behind the New Ivaarsen Chasseur's unauthorised reprisal. As it was he had had no choice but to settle for transferring more junior officers to secondary posts in lieu of actual punishment. "We both knew that this would not be easy."

"I'd tell you about An Ting but the litany of stupidity would take me all night."

"An Ting?" Hanse wracked his brain but was almost sure none of the AFFS had raided the world since he took the throne. "Don't tell me the DCMS did it to themselves?"

"Not the DCMS, no." She muttered something in Japanese that Hanse didn't catch, although he'd picked up a working vocabulary in the language over the last few years.

Hanse nodded his head in comprehension. MIIO was still piecing together exactly what had happened in Rasalhague with what was being called the Ronin War - given it had happened on the other side of the Combine and well inside the borders, the ISF had successfully clamped down on information about the incident. However, the timing would more or less coincide with An Ting University being 'closed for remodelling' which had been the explanation in the Voice of the Dragon when it had been raided back in his father's day. "So, changing the subject..."

"Actually, there's something that I need to tell you," she admitted. "Something too sensitive for even a courier."

"Why you insisted on diverting us here instead of meeting on Terra as planned?"

"No, more serious than that." Cecilia produced a small photograph from her sleeve and offered it to him.

It was Cecilia and a small girl, Hanse realised immediately. The shot was an informal one, with them both sitting on a lawn, the child - four years old, perhaps - in Cecilia's lap. They were laughing, happy. The kinship was obvious. "You have a daughter?" And a husband, perhaps? Not that he'd been celibate himself, but having a child with someone was another step entirely.

"Look again."

Huh? He checked for anything else in the picture but there was merely Cecilia, her daughter...

Who had lighter hair than her mother and blunter nose that reminded him slightly of...

Suddenly Hanse felt a sudden need to sit down. "When... how old is she?"

"Her sixth birthday is the twenty-ninth of next month," Cecilia told him and then anticipated his next question. "She's called Siriwan."

On his second attempt, Hanse managed to find one of the couches. "And you're sure that..."

"From the timing, oh yes. There's no other possibility." She sat at the other end of the couch, angling herself so that she could see him easily. "As you can imagine, it's a well kept secret."

"Who else knows?"

Cecilia reached over and took his hand. "I'm fairly sure Subash suspects although we've never spoken of it. And I've confided in Aunt Florimel and my niece Constance."

"I imagine the Keeper of the House Honour had choice words." The octogenarian Florimel's unofficial position held responsibility for the Dictum Honorium that spelled out in extensive and sometimes obscure detail the proper behaviours of all citizens of the Draconis Combine.

She smiled, the same smile that had haunted Hanse's dreams off and on for years. "The Dictum Honorium does not require chastity of me, Hanse. Quite the contrary: it is my obligation to bear children in order to continue my family line. Similarly, bearing your child would only have been an offense against the Harmony of the Combine if I did so against my own wishes as Lord Kurita."

"I thought it prohibited citizens of the Draconis Combine from having relationships with non-citizens."

"Not absolutely, particularly when the citizen in question has the permission of their superior. In this case, I was glad to grant myself an exception to that rule. I don't think it would keep my Warlords from putting Siriwan and I to death if they found out her paternity, but it does keep the Pillarines off my back."

"I understand," Hanse said at last. "I'll never meet her then?"

Cecilia gestured helplessly with the hand that wasn't grasping his. "If things go very badly then I will try to send her to you for shelter," she promised. "And if things go very well... maybe the horse will learn to sing. My people _are_ changing, Hanse, at least a little. I don't know what the future holds for us but there may be opportunities..."

He squeezed her hand in tacit understanding. "It's a shame we didn't have long to get to know each other back then. But being who we are..."

"If we weren't who we were, we wouldn't be the people that we... want to be with." She shied away from the word that she meant.

Diplomatically Hanse looked at the picture again while she composed herself. "Can I keep this?"

"Of course." It wasn't necessary to remind him to handle the photo with discretion.

"There is one more question I have to ask."

Cecilia felt Hanse's hand slacken around hers and then his thumb gliding up the inside of her wrist.

"How do I get you out of that kimono?"

"I thought you'd never ask..."

**Grand Canal Hotel, Hella Basin  
Mars, Solar System  
15 August 3020**

Katrina Steiner had needed a few hours to settle into her rooms but by mid-day all three Successor Lords present were sat at a table in one of the Hotel's many private dining rooms with a dozen or so aides pretending not to listen in.

"I'm unclear why we're meeting here rather than at Hilton Head," the blonde observed acridly after finishing the soup that had been her choice of starter.

Cecilia had just lifted a glass to wash down her garlic bread so Hanse elected himself to answer. "I was a little surprised myself and no doubt we'll be soothing ruffled feathers with Precentors and Adepts before long, but on reflection it does make this more secure. I'd be surprised if Marik or Liao don't know we're meeting by now but their agents will have focused on where we were scheduled to meet. A change of plans like this could confound them."

"And I don't trust ComStar," Cecilia added. "Research facilities investigating interstellar communications have been entirely too reliable about suffering terrorist or foreign espionage attacks. Over a hundred students at the Imperial Institute of Technology died two years ago in a firebombing of their High Energy Physics laboratories. I don't think it's a coincidence the Institute filed two papers on the principles of hyperpulse technology in the previous six months."

"If your theory is correct, then at least you know those papers were progress."

"Unfortunately half the people who understood the papers were in the building when it was destroyed. The other half assure me that the two papers are mutually contradictory."

The frustration Cecilia clearly felt over the matter was something Katrina could emphasise with - but she felt approximately the same way when faced by the landless representatives of Tamar in the General Estates. And the capability of the DCMS to take one of the most politically important worlds of the Commonwealth was due in no small part to both the young Coordinator and Hanse Davion's inexplicable readiness to maintain if not actual rapprochement then at least a stony neutrality towards their respective realms.

There were three very good reasons for not gloating though. Firstly, the loss of the Kurita scientists was a warning for the LCAF's blacker-than-black study of the devices Katrina had found in the Periphery in 3004. Secondly, the attacks commanded by Cecilia personally - as opposed to the fall of Port Moseby at the same time to the forces of Warlord Yoriyoshi - had by the standards of the DCMS been a relatively humane one, as witnessed by the fact that there had actually been a respectable number of living prisoners to be exchanged for those the Lyrans had taken. And finally, the Archon's hopes for a future peace rested on the younger woman being as... pragmatic... as she had been thus far in her reign. Pricking at her pride would undermine that.

"On another note, how is your daughter?" Cecilia enquired as the waiters replaced empty plates with the main courses. Again, all three had selected different meals: Hanse's lasagna, Katrina's steak and for Cecilia a noodle dish that she was spicing enthusiastically with pepper and garlic powder (Katrina hoped a breath-fresher would follow the meal). "I've heard impressive tales of her intelligence."

"Remarkably adept at getting into trouble," Katrina told her and decided at least a minor probe for information would be worth it. "How about your own?"

That caused Hanse's eyes to narrow in annoyance, to her delight: the First Prince could be just a little smug, she had found in their correspondence, although certainly an improvement over their other peers. Beating MIIO at something - and reminding him of his own lack of a direct heir - was definitely a point for the Lyrans.

"She's discovered paint," replied Cecilia mildly, although there was just enough hesitation to let Katrina know that the point had struck home. "Honesty compels me to admit that she isn't a budding Mitsunobu Tosa."

Neither of the successor lords was familiar with the name so Hanse side-stepped verbally. "No military goals as yet? I know my nephew was keen to enroll in the new College of Military Science at NAIS, but he is older and maybe it's different with girls."

"Too early to say," murmured the Coordinator placidly while the Archon also shook her head.

"Melissa is certainly technically minded enough, but I'm not sure she'll ever have the muscle for the job. Still, there are other arms of the military if she chooses to serve. Still, even if it's a thin hope, perhaps her generation won't be required to wage war."

Cecilia paused and refilled her glass. "That is not a promise I can make, Archon Steiner. However..." She thought for a moment. "I would be amenable to a longer term ceasefire with the Lyran Commonwealth."

There was another moment of contemplation as the other two Lords considered the ramifications of that. It would allow the Lyrans to rebuild and probably allow them to halt any further encroachment by the Free Worlds League which had by now largely recovered from the violence of the Marik Civil War. Perhaps even take back a few worlds: Hanse Davion's highly successful campaign to isolate and then seize Tikonov had proven what an advantage having one secure border could be.

Of course, the problem was that one of the most powerful and aggressive military forces in the Inner Sphere would be sitting back, gathering its strength. And sooner or later pressure _make use_ of that army would start to be applied towards Cecilia by warlords and generals hungry for glory.

Hanse was the first to broach the matter. "If you don't my asking bluntly, how long do you think you could maintain a ceasefire on both your borders? Even with the occasional lapses, our current ceasefire might not be possible if we didn't have other conflicts to absorb the attention of our military forces."

The admission gave Katrina pause. The prevailing policy of the Lyran Commonwealth was to secure what they still had, with even campaigns to recover lost worlds being considerably harder to finance if the Estates General were worried that the defenses of their own worlds might suffer. While the Draconis Combine being far more prone to aggressive adventurism was no surprise, she had not seen the Federated Suns in the same light.

Cecilia looked thoughtful. "A few years, depending how many of them I can send off pirate hunting. And then Dieron is quite close to the Free Worlds League and Capellan Confederation really... I'm fairly sure I can prolong relative peace with both of you for a decade or so but after that it's hard to predict."

"You don't think we can stop the Succession Wars then?"

"Let's be honest, they aren't really about the empty throne in a ruined city on Terra. After two hundred years, warfare is a way of life." Cecilia's eyes were dark, almost hypnotically so, as she gazed at Katrina. "A temporary ceasefire is all I can offer in that way for now. It'll take time before we see if it's as temporary as a ComStar price hike."

**ComStar First Circuit Compound  
Hilton Head Island, North America, Terra  
16 August 3020**

"So much for arbitrating the negotiations between Kurita, Davion and Steiner," Villius Tejh observed acridly once the ROM agent had finished detailing the whereabouts of the three errant Heads of State. "This makes us a laughing stock."

"Calm yourself, Villius," Julian Tiepolo warned his junior. "Your concern is appropriate but we cannot allow frustration to overrule cool judgment."

The younger man grimaced. Whether it was admitted or not, the relative prestige of the state they represented did have some impact on the subtle maneuverings for status within the First Circuit and the Capellan Confederation, already the weakest of the five Successor States, had taken significant losses through the last few years.

Somewhat surprisingly it was his main rival who rallied to Tejh's argument. "As you admit, Precentor Sian's concerns must be addressed, Primus. The strategic advantages of the truce between Kurita and Davion were troubling enough, but added to their scientific and economic advances both states have become highly dangerous." Huthrin Vandel shook his head in apparent sorrow. "Adding House Steiner to their bloc will utterly destroy the balance of power within the Inner Sphere and their contempt for us heralds near apocalypse."

Tiepolo nodded solemnly. "What you say is quite true, Precentor New Avalon. In hindsight, the incident at Halstead Station was more serious than appreciated at the time and clearly the discovery of the lostech cache on Volders has allowed the Combine to keep pace with the better funded research carried out at NAIS." He saw Vandel's shoulders tense - while the man could not be blamed for Volders, NAIS was clearly in his area of responsibility. "As a result, the fear of a technologically advanced AFFS overwhelming the DCMS has proved an insufficient motivation for the truce to be broken."

"We should have Cecilia Kurita assassinated."

Heads turned towards Ulthan Everson. Precentor Tharkad was not prone radical suggestions.

"Your reasoning?" Tejh demanded briskly.

"The ceasefire rests heavily upon the personalities of Hanse Davion and Cecilia Kurita," the man observed. "Both pushed the policy through despite substantial opposition and they enforce it fiercely. Killing Hanse Davion would place Michael Hasek-Davion on the throne and he would be likely to continue to focus on the Capellan March: it's possible the Coordinator could convince him to continue their ceasefire. But remove her and the most likely outcome is civil war. the Draconis Combine's strength would turn on itself and the temptation to take advantage would be irresistible to both Davion and Steiner."

The room fell silent at the ruthlessness of the suggestion.

"I do not wish to contemplate the consequences if ComStar were discovered to have carried out that assassination," Precentor Dieron observed coldly. Significantly older than any of his peers, it was an open secret that Charles Osterraker was under pressure to retire in favour of Tiepolo's prize prodigy, Myndo Waterly. "They hold dearly to their code of vendetta and might even dare to break Terra's neutrality."

"That's not even considering how the other Successor Lords might react." Tejh gripped the belt of his robe firmly. "But it might be a risk we have to take." A quick glance around the First Circuit made it clear, however, that he was the only supporter of Everson's proposal. Even the representative of ROM, a non-voting member of the body, seemed reluctant. "I agree that it would be a premature given the current situation though."

The Primus cleared his throat. "In the short term, reinforcing the Capellan military would slow Hanse Davion and might lead to Janos Marik focusing his energies on the Lyran Commonwealth rather than the Capellans. I recommend a cache containing equipment from our stores here on Terra but stripped of advanced equipment be prepared somewhere in Capellan space. I've no doubt that Maximilian Liao would reward greatly anyone who led him to such a discovery."

"That would be possible," Tejh agreed. "There are a few former Hegemony worlds that are no longer viable habitats, it should be relatively straightforward to create a 'forgotten militia base' on one of them."

"Does this measure have the First Circuit's approval?" Tiepolo asked, and heads nodded around the room. "Very good. Precentor Sian, please co-ordinate this with the Precentor of the ComGuards." He turned towards the chamber's stained glass window briefly, as if seeking inspiration from the sunlight streaming through it. "In the meantime, we will cease our efforts to bolster the factionalism within the Free Worlds League and provide indirect support to the internal divisions within the other three Houses. Precentor Dieron, what likelihood is there of the 'Autonomous Prefecture of Rasalhague' seeking actual independence?"

"Very little," Osterraker told him firmly. "They're still fumbling around with the authority that they have been granted and none of their leadership is so stupid as to forget that their own forces are far weaker than those Kurita smashed four years ago."

"How disappointing. Still, it seems that if the Swedenese can have their own semi-independent domain that other factions such as the Azami may seek similar status, arousing envy in their neighbours. I am sure you know where to spread the word to best effect."

Vandel nodded. "I presume that I should also stoke Michael Hasek-Davion's ambitions. After the reversals of his recent campaign, his ego will be smarting."

"Indeed," Tiepolo nodded graciously. "Perhaps if the Captain-General can be persuaded not to pursue further attacks on the Capellan Confederation, then the Duke of New Syrtis might be persuaded that he can make alliance with Chancellor Liao." He smiled thinly. "After all, if House Liao can turn brother against brother in the Free Worlds League then brother against brother-in-law in the Federated Suns should be childs-play. Now, what do we know about the discussions taking place on Mars?"

**Grand Canal Hotel, Hella Basin  
Mars, Solar System  
17 August 3020**

"Her position is very shaky, Hanse." As head of MIIO, it was Count Nicholas Truston's job to know. "There may be precedent for female Coordinators, but it's always been as an 'interim' measure until they married or their sons were old enough to reign. She's not married and this daughter that the Steiners found out about is probably her only child. If Takashi hadn't been so efficient in setting the Warlords against each other, she'd probably be dead by now."

The Prince nodded wearily. He had spent the afternoon negotiating with Katrina over a relaxation of trade barriers between their realms (no one expected such a move from the Combine so Cecilia had excused herself) and while Katrina was enthusiastic, she'd also been feeling him out about co-operation against the Combine. He didn't want to appear reluctant - and a defensive alliance made sense - but equally, the ceasefire was delicate enough that even appearances of collusion against the Combine could undo seven years of progress. "What's your opinion of the Warlords?"

Truston pursed his lips. "Sorenson's reliable but not too competent. She used him to keep control of Pesht early in her reign and moving him into Galedon has steadied that District. Hsiun Chi's probably her closest ally now that Yorinaga Kurita has dropped out of sight: they're both graduates of the Sun Tzu School of Combat and she elevated him to control of Dieron. It's entirely possible that he's ambitious enough to want to move higher though."

"The problems are Samsonov in Rasalhague and Yoriyoshi in Benjamin. It's fortunate for the Coordinator that they loath each other because they're both militarily capable and politically astute. Samsonov's career was mostly spent in Galedon and he was promoted to replace Cherenkoff. That's probably leaves him with less local support than Yoriyoshi, but it also means he has ties to Galedon's institutions and a veneer of 'closeness' to the Coordinator due to her campaigns on that part of the border. Yoriyoshi is entrenched in Benjamin and his own glory from taking Port Moseby balances that."

"What about Pesht?"

"Hirushi Shotugama." The count spread his hands. "He keeps his own counsel and no one is quite sure how he'll move. He used to command a regiment in the Benjamin Regulars so he might be inclined towards Yoriyoshi, but then, Hsiun Chi was Cherenkoff's aide and hated the man."

Hanse chuckled. "Did anyone like Cherenkoff other than Takashi Kurita?"

Truston grinned wryly. "Three regiments of the Rasalhague Regulars liked him enough to follow him to hell."

"Right... which says something about how unpopular she is. And executing every officer in the 11th Benjamin Regulars probably didn't make Yoriyoshi a happy man. So two of her Warlords are probably plotting against her and a third's loyalties are unknown. What about the rest of the Combine?" The military was usually the decision point for the Combine, but with that divided, the other arms of the government might tip the balance.

"Well you know the traditional role of a woman in Draconian society isn't exactly barefoot, pregnant and kitchen bound, no matter what the propaganda is?"

"I'd sort of gathered. It's still household management though."

"Yes, they handle the finances, look after the children... sounds obvious but in a government role that means handling the economy and education. And while a lot of traditional women don't approve of a woman being the Coordinator, there's a general agreement that she's doing a good job there. Agricultural production is up and it's in an interesting way - more mechanization for regions producing basic foodstuffs and subsidies to small farmers converting to low-level luxury foods. There are a lot of licences being issued for small businesses - the part of the Treasury that handles that is recruiting. However, the section that provides corporate oversight isn't. That might mean that she's relaxing oversight."

"More food would mean cheaper food," Hanse observed. "That's got to hurt farmers in some ways."

"It does. The market's got competitive and that does mean there are some losers. But it's reducing military expenditure on food for soldiers so the DCMS is happy about it. Particularly since that money's being channeled to new weapons factories."

"Ouch."

"Yes. That's how they're subsidising Alshain Weapons building their new facility on Ningxia. The Coordinator's exercised eminent domain to seize parts from derelict factories and contributed those. That site will almost double production of the Panther light 'Mech, and it gives them an alternate supply if they have more trouble with Rasalhague."

Hanse groaned and walked over to the window. "Aaron's going to be furious. What else does she have up her sleeve?"

Shuffling through a briefing document turned up an answer Truston didn't think that his Prince would like. "Apparently they're looking at a factory for fusion reactors on New Samarkand. Our sources say they're leaning on the Outworlds Alliance for some of the data they used to for the Merlin."

"Please tell me that they're only for the Panthers."

"There's also a tank project..."

Hanse started to swear in french.

**Grand Canal Hotel, Hella Basin  
Mars, Solar System  
17 August 3020**

Subash Indrahar was one of the most feared men in the Draconis Combine, despite his notoriously genial manner. The imperial court on Luthien regarded Cecilia Kurita's assiduous development of a close relationship with the Director of the ISF as one of the shrewdest moves she had made in the quiet chaos following from Takashi Kurita's assassination. Few realised that it was Indrahar who had approached Cecilia and not the other way around.

"It was wise of you to reveal Hanse Davion's daughter to him, Lord Kurita," he congratulated her and noted approvingly that there was not the least sign in her demeanor that she was disturbed by his admission that he knew of Siriwan Kurita's parentage. "His use of Morgan Hasek-Davion as a hostage against the Duke of New Syrtis suggested that he would be hardened against such tactics, but it is clear now that he would hesitate to move against the mother of his child."

"Integrity demanded that I share the information with him as soon as it was practical to do so," Cecilia replied mildly. "It continues to astonish me how often the honourable course of action proves also to have pragmatic benefits."

The spymaster's smile did not waver any more than hers had. "Still, I regret that his security were able to locate all of our listening devices in his rooms. They are regrettably proficient at their tasks. Even Archon Steiner's rooms are almost closed to our devices."

"Almost," she replied with a smile.

He bowed his head in confirmation. "There has been no indication at this time that Duke Ricol's activities have been determined."

Hassid Ricol was one of the most inventive Dukes in the aristocracy of the Combine and had amassed a considerable degree of power despite the handicap his Azami heritage posed in their Japanese-dominated culture. His ties to the traditionalists could have made him a focal point for resistance so Cecilia had co-opted him to begin a programme of subversion in the pirate kingdoms flanking both House Steiner and House Kurita's domains.

Posing as smugglers, Ricol's agents had approached some of the less barbaric groups for protection of their routes (which were providing the Duke with a modest profit in fact, with the price of Kurita 'war trophies' could command in the Lyran black market). From there the goal was to bring the useful pirates into a permanent role as security for the smugglers, eliminate their rivals and begin shipping Kuritan manufactured goods to the worlds they controlled. While inferior to the Lyran equivalents, the goods would be far more available than usual in the periphery. Potentially Cecilia thought that as many as a dozen worlds might be shifted into the Kuritan sphere of influence. None of them would be very valuable worlds economically but keeping Ricol busy was more than worth it and the strategic position on the Lyran flank might be invaluable.

And if the Steiners found out? Ricol was utterly dispensable.

**Grand Canal Hotel, Hella Basin  
Mars, Solar System  
21 August 3020**

Privacy is something almost unobtainable to royalty, particularly when housed not in the usual palaces but in suites of even the most exclusive hotel. As a result, after the private conference five days before, Hanse and Cecilia had not managed to find any excuse to banish all aides and bodyguards so they could have some time to themselves.

It didn't even have to be enough privacy for physical intimacy, nice though that would be, a disgruntled Hanse Davion thought. Neither of them was a teenager, after all. Just having more time to talk frankly to each other would be an improvement. He could only hope that he was hiding his frustration as well as Cecilia. Of course, maybe she wasn't finding this quite as difficult as him - he sort of hoped she was, otherwise it would be markedly unfair.

The afternoon's discussions had been about releasing medical information between their respective medical establishments. Hanse thought Katrina had been surprised to find out that that was one area where the Combine had a great deal to offer the other two. He certainly had been although a query to Truston had cleared up why: the Combine was considerably more relaxed about human experimentation than either of the other two realms. It wasn't something he found easy to reconcile with his image of Cecilia, even if she hadn't started the practice she would have grown up in a culture that endorsed it.

Hmm. Maybe he should talk to Quintus Allard. The head of counterintelligence had been married to a Capellan while he was stationed at the embassy on Sian but the marriage hadn't worked out. He'd probably have some insights into relationships across cultural lines, although then he might work out the reasons...

Distracted by considering how to approach the matter, Hanse didn't spot one of Cecilia's aides brush a potted plant with his leg and stumble slightly. Trying to keep the stack of datafiles in his arms, the middle-aged man failed to spot that he was on a collision course with a junior official of the Ministry of Ways and Means. The woman gasped in shock as the hapless aide collided with her posterior and spun sharply, bringing her own attaché case down on the man's head.

Matters deteriorated from there as two DCMS officers jumped to the protection of their countryman and a diplomatic services official moved gallantly to the aid of the woman (although by the way she was kicking the fallen man, she seemed to have little need of any).

"Stop this immediately!" Hanse thundered, bringing the incipient brawl to a halt. "What in the world..."

Cecilia cleared her throat. "Perhaps, your highness, the children can take their _games_ outside of this hotel." Her scathing gaze took in the aides, officials and soldiers of both nations, causing even those innocent of participation to shuffle their feet. She gestured towards the elevators behind them and Hanse nodded in understanding.

"Sort yourselves out," he directed his own party. "And do yourselves the favour of not drawing my attention again today."

Then the Coordinator and First Prince stepped into the same elevator, the doors closing behind them.

Hanse waited until the floor indicator had begun to change before letting a brief grin cross his face. "I take it that that was stage-managed then?"

"Subash-_san_ is never that clumsy by accident, dear prince," Cecilia said with a smile that was as much for identifying the perpetrator of the ruse as it was for being able to use the endearment.

"That was...?"

"He likes to keep his hand in." She consulted her wristwatch and then nodded. "And..." The elevator smoothly came to a halt, the floor indicator halting between two floors. "...stage two. We can probably give it a couple of minutes before alerting the hotel that there seems to be a problem with the elevator. I'm assured it could be anything up to an hour before we're 'released'."

"Quite an embarrassment for the hotel," Hanse observed, taking one of the modest chairs in a corner of the elevator (which was of a size that could probably accommodate a platoon of infantry in a pinch). "Or at least it would be if they were to ever admit we were here."

Cecilia took the other chair. "Fortunate for us. And with four other elevators in the lobby it's unlikely to draw attention from anyone."

"So what shall we talk about? The past, the future...? I'm still wondering how you managed to sit yourself on the Coordinator's throne."

"Oh that's simple enough," she advised him drily, rising to her feet. "I stand in front of it, like this you see, and then I bend my knees like so..." Cecelia sat down again and her smile was more of a smirk for an instant.

"I am bereft at your wit."

"And I at your sarcasm, dear prince. I will admit that my rise to the throne was something of a blunder."

"You 'blundered' your way into being the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine?"

Cecilia giggled. "You don't imagine I wanted the job, do you? I just liked being alive and it was the throne or a firing squad. Marcus is more than twenty years older than me and thought that I'd support him in his coup, so several of his cronies tried to talk me into convincing my regiment to declare loyalty to him. I was young, rebellious and never liked Marcus anyway..." Her voice grew grim. "So I set up a meeting, went up on stage... then pointed them out as traitors involved in the conspiracy to murder Takashi. They came within about an inch of being torn apart on the spot."

"I imagine that burned your bridges with Marcus fairly thoroughly."

"You could say that." Cecilia grimaced. "_Sho-sho_ Langley had choice words for me since I'd also burned the entire regiment's bridges to him and at the time it looked like he really might manage what he was aiming for. In which case he'd certainly kill me as a traitor. And anyone else on the throne - including Takashi because we still weren't sure he was dead - would probably kill me just to be on the safe side, since by taking out Marcus' men I'd upgraded myself from simple mechwarrior to political player."

Hanse nodded his understanding. "So you had to prove your loyalty beyond any doubt, by actively taking on Marcus. And once you heard your cousin really was dead..."

"That was news that arrived in the nick of time thanks to Constance. Ivan Sorenson was probably about an inch from turning against us but with Takashi dead he had to pick someone to follow: it's just how he's wired and I was there while Marcus was still trying to cement his hold on Pesht. But I had to offer the soldiers something to fight for and a dead Takashi wasn't very surprising so..."

Hanse left his chair and crossed the frozen elevator to kneel in front of her, taking Cecilia's hands comfortingly. "Obviously you won."

Cecilia accepted his hands. "I had to run fast to make it happen and I've been running ever since, trying to keep ahead of my enemies. Not quite sure what I'm running towards."

"Is there any chance of it being us?" He raised one of her hands to his face, brushing his lips across her knuckles.

"I very much doubt that, Hanse." Cecilia's face was serene but her eyes betrayed how difficult it was for her to face that. "Which means, my dear prince, that you must do your duty to the Suns: take a wife and have heirs that can succeed your throne. One nephew is not enough."

"A nephew and a daughter," he reminded her.

"Maybe more than that."

Hanse's startled look at Cecilia's navel put a smile back on her lips. "Not now, no. But there are... possibilities that would be less betraying. Most of my Warlords can count to nine, after all. None of which is relevant to this however. We both know that Siriwan is even less likely to inherit your throne than she is to have mine one day." She shook her head firmly. "We're married to our realms first and foremost. You know that. Now we have to do what is right for them."

**Yokohama Spaceport, Japan  
Pacific Rim, Terra  
29 August 3020**

Practically the first person that Cecilia saw as she exited the dropship was Charles Osterraker. The elderly man bowed his head more in order to hide his face as he composed himself than out of any actual respect. "Coordinator. How delightful that you have finally managed to find time in your busy schedule for us."

"Well, you know..." she waved her hand dismissively. "After cancelling the conference at Hilton Head at the last minute, I felt a social visit was in order."

"I seems to notice that you still had the conference though," the Precentor noted acridly as he walked side by side with the Coordinator to the limousine that had been provided for her.

"Oh yes. It was the 'at Hilton Head' part that we cancelled. It occurred to me that it was disrespectful of us to assume you wouldn't have your own interests to argue that might conflict with ours. You're such a young organisation, after all, I fear we might not have been taking you entirely seriously."

Osterraker choked. "'Young organisation'?"

"Not quite two hundred and fifty years, I believe." Cecilia favoured him with a broad smile. "I'm afraid that doesn't really count for much more than a passing fad - such as the Star League - amongst nations with true longevity such as the Combine or the other Successor States. Still, I am of the opinion that we should have more respect for you."

The condescending words were almost enough to goad the Precentor into thoughtless words. As it was, his response sounded almost plaintive. "But if you respect ComStar then why do you not trust us to aid you in these peace talks?"

"Oh Charles..." Cecilia did all but bat her eyes at the man, who was old enough to be her grandfather. "You really need to let go of that naiveté."

Mentally, Osterraker started composing the announcement of his retirement. Let Tiepolo promote his precious prodigy to the job - he gave Waterly about a month of dealing with Cecilia Kurita before she'd need a prescription of anti-psychotics - he was done with the job. "Would it be forward of me to enquire your intentions in Tokyo?" he asked, opening the limousine door for her in a gentlemanly fashion.

"I've been invited for tea," Cecilia advised him and firmly closed the door to the limousine behind her.

Osterraker tapped impatiently on the limousine window until the Coordinator rolled it down. "I'm sorry, was there something else?"

"I believe the Primus would like to speak to you before you leave Terra. He was quite insistent upon it, in fact. If nothing else I'm sure "

"He knows where I'm staying, Precentor. And if coming here is too far for him, there's this wonderful invention called the telephone. I'm almost certain my hotel suite will have one."

**LCS Donegal's Pride  
Outer System, Terra  
29 August 3020**

"Gentlemen, your opinions on the Coordinator are valued but the decision has been made." Katrina Steiner had little patience with repetition of arguments she'd understood the first time they were presented to her. "The ceasefire may not last forever, but with the Federated Suns as guarantor it is highly unlikely that Coordinator Kurita will break it. She's many things but she is not a fool and the Combine cannot prosper with heavy fighting on both borders."

Of course, Hanse Davion's commitment that a break of the Commonwealth-Combine ceasefire would be treated as a break of his own ceasefire was debatable. The First Prince had a reputation for being scrupulous about keeping his word, but he was also an ambitious man and Katrina was not convinced that she understood the goals he had set himself.

"That promise is only for three years," Tyrell Gibson noted grimly. "When that time is up there will be nothing to constrain them."

"The Coordinator's admission that she may not be able to keep the peace longer than that is a positive sign though," the Archon told the representative of the Estates-General. "And in fairness to her, restraining Kelswa from another forlorn hope to reclaim his homeworld is going to be a challenge so she isn't the only one with unruly soldiers." Duke Selvin Kelswa had seen the effects of Draconian conquest on Tamar worlds as a young man and his passionate efforts to rouse support for reclaiming the capital of the Tamar Pact had led directly to the near-loss of Winfield's Brigade and the effective loss of the Kell Hounds mercenary regiment since the rump of that unit had accepted a contract to hunt pirates for the Free Worlds League. Undaunted the Duke was still pestering the government for another attack, albeit with less progress.

"That gives us three years to rebuild the damage done to the LCAF and to bolster our position against the League." Katrina steepled her hands. "Preferably to convince Janos Marik that we're enough of a problem that he'll agree to a ceasefire with us and focus his efforts on the Capellans." Her gaze flicked to the military officers in the room. "I'll allow twelve months for the LCAF to restore its losses and prepare for a major offensive."

Enquiring minds promptly started spreading out maps mentally, considering the Lyran-League border from Poulsbo out on the periphery rim to Rigil Kentarus, closest Lyran world to Terra itself. However before targets could be proposed, Katrina gestured for silence. "If you have recommendations for such an operation, I suggest you develop a full plan to put forward once we return to Tharkad. For now, you may take your leave."

Katrina nodded discreetly to Harrison Bradford and to her sister Nondi, indicating that they were not included in the dismissal.

"Why Katrina, just the three of us?" the Duke of Coventry asked when the door was closed, directing a ribald wink at the Archon.

"Merely insisting on a respite from your pursuit of the secretaries, Thomas. You have to take care of your health."

Nondi ignored the byplay - Bradford was a notorious flirt but he also knew perfectly well that Nondi was happily married. The habit amused Katrina however, so for her sake it was tolerable. "I take it you've already decided where to attack?"

"I have a strong preference," admitted Katrina standing so she could pace around the cramped cabin. To accommodate the meeting earlier, furniture had been folded aside, giving her room for a few steps in each direction. "But I don't want to close my mind off if someone has a better idea."

"Well get it off that impressive chest of yours."

The Archon turned to face the Duke: "Right through the Silver Hawks Coalition to Stewart."

Bradford whistled.

"Hmm. The Nathan salient again, at least to start with. Then push for Stewart not Bordon," summarised Nondi, referring to one of the major strategic features of the border during the Second Succession War. The worlds had been lost one by one over the years, but LCAF still had detailed maps and records of the area. "Marik will have to find for the region."

"Correct. If the Silver Hawks can be counted on for anything it's to start a screaming fight in his Parliament and he has family ties to the Stewart Commonality. Throw in the Battlemech factories on Kalidasa and Stewart -"

"And the Imstar factory on Amity," pointed out Bradford.

"Yes, and that. Then Janos will have to pull his federal regiments off the Capellan front to face us, raising protests from Andurien and not scoring him many points with the Duke of Oriente. He can't rely on local forces while the region around Irian is a hotbed of opposition to him."

Nondi frowned in thought. "We'll have to redeploy as well. You're talking about seven or eight worlds - can't be done with less than ten regiments unless you want Rahneshire stripped bare."

"Wolf's Dragoons will reinforce the Combine border, but plan on having mercenary regiments pulled off the line from there and several other regions. That'll create least fuss and we can pull a few regular regiments loose for the second and third waves when surprise doesn't matter quite so much."

"It's a plan, or at least the beginnings of one," agreed Bradford with unusual seriousness. "But the question remains: will Janos talk? He wouldn't hear of negotiating with his brother when Anton raised revolt so what's to say he'll be more reasonable with us? If he commits to pushing us back then we could be stuck in heavy fighting there when the ceasefire with the Combine ends. The Capellans will be too busy fighting the Federated Suns to do anything much."

Katrina nodded. "Normally yes, but there's one difference, Harrison. Fighting us would be his duty. But Maximilian Liao funded Anton Marik's rebellion, forcing Janos to declare war on his brother and execute his own son. For him, fighting the Capellans is personal. Janos Marik isn't going to get bogged down fighting us if there's a chance in the universe that Hanse Davion could get to Sian before him."

**Imperial Hotel Tokyo, Japan  
Pacific Rim, Terra  
1 September 3020**

With Grand Canal Hotel looking to gain a lock on the upper crust visitors to Mars for the next two or three decades in the wake of their unprecedented coup in hosting three Successor Lords at once, hotels around Japan had engaged in a fierce bidding war for the honour of providing Lord Kurita and her party with accommodation for her delayed visit, knowing that the costs would be insignificant in comparison to the rewards of association with the second most prestigious royal line in the known universe (the entirely ceremonial Emperor of Japan still taking precedence of course).

A combination of tradition, price and entertainment had convinced Cecilia that the Imperial Hotel Tokyo was the best choice and two days later her only regret was that she was scheduled to leave in another two days. The Imperial Palace on Luthien might be slightly more luxurious but it was also a working building, to no small measure taken up by the government of the Draconis Combine. In contrast, the hotel was entirely devoted to pampering its guests and with a tradition stretching back over a thousand years, they were by now fairly good at it.

As a result, when Myndo Waterly approached the Hotel, the staff were discreetly obtuse as to the location of the guest that the Precentor was speaking of. Not obstructory of course, for were ComStar not the great benefactors of all Terra by protecting it from the rigors of the Succession Wars? But somehow, they didn't seem to be quite able to pin down where Cecilia was at that moment, although ROM surveillance had made it clear that she had not left since her visit to the Imperial Palace the previous day.

The pale haired Precentor was about to renew her assault, armed with unquenchable confidence (some might say arrogance) that her authority could not be side-stepped indefinitely when she was assaulted from behind.

"Awk," she managed as strong arms wrapped around her shoulders in an unexpected hug.

"Well well," a friendly voice declared from behind her. "I heard there was a Precentor looking for me, but I thought it would be that old buzzard Osterraker." Waterly was released and turned to see the Coordinator looking at her with approval. "You must be the new and improved model."

"Ah... I am Myndo Waterly, the new Precentor Dieron," she confirmed, disconcerted by the warm reception. Her briefings had indicated that Cecilia Kurita was at best tolerant towards ComStar and at worst openly discourteous. A residue of upbringing from her childhood on Kuzuu had her bow to the noblewoman, although not as deeply as she once would have.

Cecilia returned the bow, giving the younger woman a moment to assess her situation and realise that the Coordinator was wearing baggy sweats and had obviously been exercising. "Myndo Waterly... ah yes, I've heard a great deal about you. Florimel was furious that the ISF were so heavy-handed as to drive you to leave the Combine."

While Waterly had been aware before entering ComStar that she was being cultivated by both the Order of the Five Pillars and by the Internal Security Force as a possible recruit, the notion that she might have come to the attention of the now-retired Keeper of House Honour had not occurred to her. "I'm honoured to have been held in such regard," she replied diplomatically, "But I found that I was called to serve a different master."

"I understand," Cecilia assured her warmly. "Our loss is ComStar's gain and your rise simply confirms all our expectations of your potential." She took the young Precentor's arms and gently but firmly began to draw her deeper into the hotel, the usual entourage of bodyguards and aides falling in smoothly around them. "I'm just going to get cleaned up - please, join me in the spa and we can get to know each other. After all, we're likely to have a long and hopefully close working relationship."

"That is hardly usual for a Precentor and the Lord of a Successor State," Myndo observed cautiously although she did not resist the guidance. Certainly the Coordinator would not attempt to harm her: an attack upon even the least ComStar adept would be met with firm retribution and she was on Earth, seat of Blake's followers.

Cecilia smiled and nodded slightly in confirmation. "I must admit that Osterraker and I have not been on the best of terms," she confessed. "While a distinguished individual, honesty compels me to admit that he was... conservative. The Inner Sphere is changing... I am sure that you see that. Blake foresaw that no one could win the Succession Wars, did he not? That the fighting would end?"

"Uh... yes. Have you studied the Word of Blake?"

"My education touched on all the great thinkers. Being the closest to our times I admit that Jerome Blake's writing drew more of my attention although I never felt the same call that you did."

Their conversation was interrupted by entrance into the hotel's spa and staff efficiently assisting Waterly in removing her clothes for the massage that would precede entering the spa waters. Under normal circumstances the younger woman might have hesitated but she was in the company of the Coordinator and it would not be fitting for a ComStar Precentor to appear less than sophisticated, so she obediently followed the instructions and resumed her place at the side of the Coordinator, suppressing the thrill at the realisation that she was being treated almost as a peer. Of course, I am, she thought. After all, I'm a member of the First Circuit, one of the most important people in ComStar and by extension, of the entire Inner Sphere.

"You know, most of my soldiers would consider this to border upon decadence," Cecilia confided as the masseur began to work on her shoulders. "But really, it's simply civilisation, isn't it?"

Waterly mumbled something non-committal, making a note to check for any similar spas near Hilton Head.


	3. Chapter Two

**Imperial City, Luthien  
Pesht District, Draconis Combine  
27 September 3020**

The homecoming of their Lord and mistress was sufficient occasion for the entire service staff of the Imperial Palace to assemble in two lines either side of the steps, something of a gauntlet that Cecilia had to walk, pausing every few steps to return their bows. In the cases of a few particularly favoured individuals, she provided small gifts brought from Terra. They would be valued far more for their symbolic value than for what had been paid for them.

At the top of the steps leading to the palace was a broad porch and awaiting her there were three women and a little girl. The latter broke ranks and ran giggling to Cecilia as she reached the top steps and the Coordinator laughed, sweeping her daughter off the ground and up into a hug.

"Did you miss me, _kaasan_?" the six year old asked, pressing her face against the side of Cecilia's neck.

"Of course I did, Siri'." Cecilia rubbed the girl's back with her free hand. "But I'm back now and just in time. I think it might be someone's birthday soon... I just can't remember whose..."

Siriwan moved her head back to look up at her. "It's mine!"

"No! Really?" She put an expression of exaggerated thought on her face. "Why I believe you're right. And you'll be six!"

"Six!"

"Yes indeed." Cecilia walked up the next few steps. "Now then, have you been a good girl while your _kaasan_ was away?"

She received a nod and an empathic: "Uh-huh!"

"As good as can be expected," Jasmine Kurita clarified serenely, stepping forwards to add her own greetings. "Welcome home, Lord Kurita." The widow of Takashi Kurita remained at the heart of the social and artistic circles of the court, making her another of Cecilia's most useful advisors.

"It's good to be home, Jasmine-_sama_." Cecilia turned to her niece - though there was less than a month between their ages - Constance and gave her a warm smile. "No fresh scandals disturbing your harmony, my friend?"

"You know they save all the excitement for your presence," Constance answered solemnly, her demeanor so nearly feline it was a slight surprise that she did not purr. "The Procurement Department of the DCMS have been seeking your attention, but that's probably just business and nothing exciting."

"A little business here and there keeps the realm moving."

The last of the little group stepped forward and lifted Siriwan firmly from her mother's arms. The girl pouted slightly but accepted the rearrangement with good grace. Tomoe Sakade was a legacy - her appointment one of Florimel Kurita's last actions before handing her duties to Constance - and filled many roles, of which nanny to Siriwan was only one. Cecilia gripped her shoulder in wordless greeting, feeling muscle and sinew even through the folds of the kimono - like the Coordinator, Tomoe was a mechwarrior and it showed.

"I'd have thought that after negotiating with Steiner and Davion you'd be less enthusiastic at more paperwork?" Constance asked as they walked through the doors of the palace. "Did the Archon ask for Tamar back?"

"Of course she did. And I'd have let her have it if she'd met my price: all seventeen of the former Terran Hegemony worlds currently under Lyran control. For some reason she didn't think that it was a good deal."

"That's a shame," the Keeper of the House Honour replied with a smirk. The victory at Tamar was one of the key demonstrations of Cecilia's military competence (official releases used the word genius) that kept the DCMS happy. Handing it back to the Lyrans would have been a major sacrifice.

"If the Procurement Department want my attention..." Cecilia shook her head in irritation. "Have the Department of Indoctrination been pestering you as well?"

"Not really. You think they're up to something?"

"They're always up to something. But if they're being a quiet about it then it's something that they think I won't approve of."

"_Kaasan_, who are the Min-ish-tree of In-doc-ck-..." Siriwan stumbled over the word.

"Indoctrination," Cecilia repeated slowly so that her daughter could grasp the pronunciation. "They're teachers, Siriwan."

"Teachers!" The little girl looked worried. "Are they going to make you learn silly languages, _kaasan_?"

The four women smiled at the comment. Like any noble child in the Combine, Siriwan was had been raised with Japanese and English from the cradle. Cecilia had ordered lessons in Arabic and Swedenese as soon as formal schooling began, having struggled with learning both herself. Unfortunately, getting a headstart hadn't made Siriwan any happier about the lessons than her mother had been at the same stage.

"I think they're keeping secrets from me, Siriwan. They're being bad people. Like in the Silly Cameron and the Shark," she explained, referring to a story she'd invented years ago to tell to the girl when Siriwan demanded stories not included in the books of children's tales that she could read for herself. That story had grown over the years and actually required a little historical research on Cecilia's part. "There may have to be spanking."

Satisfied that her mother had everything back under control, Siriwan accepted Tomoe putting her down and obediently followed her nanny off back to her own classes. Jasmine looked at their retreating backs and then to Cecilia. "You could spend more time with her, you know. Sometimes you act more like a father than a mother."

"I know. And in four years she'll be old enough for preparatory school and I'll see even less of her," the Coordinator admitted. "And it's difficult to campaign from Luthien."

"But you won't need to campaign for the next few years. Didn't you just finish agreeing a ceasefire with the Lyrans? We will be at peace, surely. At least for a few years."

Cecilia sighed and took Jasmine's arm. "Our people have not been at peace since 2866. That's beyond even institutional memory and the unfamiliar makes people uncomfortable. And when the Mustered Soldiery becomes uncomfortable, it will become aggressive and start looking for a target. I would rather give them a target than become one."

"Oh."

"Not immediately, I admit. There will probably be two or even three years before I have to do that. Long enough to give them some idea of what peace is like. Who knows, maybe after that round of fighting I can stretch it out for as long as five years."

Jasmine shook her head, thinking of her own family. "I suppose wives and mothers will have to get used to having husbands and sons underfoot more often."

"An unfamiliar experience, but I hope one that those who do face it will find it welcome."

**Avalon City, New Avalon  
Crucis March, Federated Suns  
30 September 3020**

The First Prince had been distracted since his return from Terra - or Mars, at least - Countess Nelitha Green-Davion of the Gold Isles noticed. Then, because she was not only a distant cousin but also a General in the AFFS, she returned to detailing the problems being experienced with the flow of supplies from depots in the Crucis March to the units deployed along the Capellan border.

The problem was one that Hanse was not unfamiliar with - as military governor of New Aragon for two years before taking the throne, he'd seen the problem from the other end and done his best to eradicate the corruption that was hampering military operations. Now, from New Avalon he was morally certain he knew where the rot originated... but he lacked the evidence that would be needed in order to remove the source.

Impeaching the second-highest noble after himself would require ironclad evidence and even them, the backlash could be catastrophic. Even Hanse's supporters might feel that he was more concerned by limiting the powers of a vassal than by preventing the damage done by Michael Hasek-Davion. Still, maybe he could shake matters up a bit.

"In summation then, you don't find the supplies being directed into the four worlds that Michael managed to capture two years ago to be consistent with the reported difficulties in organising their defences?" he asked.

Nelitha shook her head in denial. "No sir. The supplies are being wasted or otherwise disposed of. We just haven't been able to pin down how."

"I see. Jisosa -" Hanse turned to Nelitha's immediate superior, Marshal Miller. "- can you spare Nelitha for a month or so? I have a project in mind and I want it to receive her undivided attention."

The older woman nodded in evident amusement. "I'm sure this will hurt General Green-Davion's feelings, but I imagine that the department can manage at least briefly without her. What do you have in mind?"

Hanse grinned boyishly. "It occurs to me that we haven't really done a systematic review of the boundaries of the Capellan March PDZs since Sirdar was established, and that was in my grandfather's reign. Perhaps we should consider merging the rimward region of Sirdar and Ridgebrook into a new PDZ facing the Taurian Concordat. Of course that would be a major shake-up since we'd have to decide what to do with the rest of Ridgebrook - perhaps even adjust the March boundary as some parts of the Capellan March really have more than adequate defensive depth..."

An intrigued look crossed Nelitha's face. "I've always found that the best way to reorganise a drawer is to pull everything out into the open to see what's in there to begin with."

"Exactly. And having just carried out a major investigation of the area, you're the perfect choice to draw up the proposal," Hanse agreed enthusiastically. "Not to mention see what comes to light as a result. See if you can draw up a rough preliminary recommendation for..." He hesitated then called up his diary on a noteputer. "Hmm, do you have lunch plans for the seventh of next month?"

"No sir." It was astonishing how few people did have plans that would conflict with an implicit invitation from their prince.

"Then we'll make a working lunch of it at the palace," Hanse decided.

Jisosa Miller hid a smile. She had no doubt that Hanse's thought to redraw borders was, if impulsive, quite serious and that he had selected Nelitha to plan the changes because he believed she was the best person for the job. The Marshal had a suspicion though that had the 'best person for the job' not been an attractive single woman only a few years Hanse's junior, then they would not be discussing it over lunch.

And that meant that Jisosa was one step closer to winning twenty FedSuns pounds off Yvonne Davion. Both women had been concerned about Hanse's failure to marry and produce children as an alternative to Hasek-Davion taking the throne.

"It'll be a couple of years before the regiments we used against Tikonov are ready for more action," the Prince continued. "I'll need to talk it over with Aaron Sandoval but some of them could probably benefit from rotation out to quieter sections of the Draconis March, so you may be directing replacement personnel and equipment out to Dahar and Bryceland for a while, Jisosa. Don't allocate any jumpships until I've talked to him though. We'll have to decide which regiments to replace them with."

He turned his head to one of Nelitha's closer cousins, Tobias Green-Davion, who headed the Department of Mercenary Relations. "Tobias, I want you to start thinking about what to offer the Wolf Dragoons when their contract with Katrina expires in 3022. Now that she has a ceasefire with House Kurita, they won't be seeing much action and for the same reason they probably won't get much of an offer from the Coordinator. Which means it's us, Marik or Liao that they'll be looking to for future employment. I can live with Janos Marik hiring them, but the Dragoons back in Capellan employment is a problem I'd rather not have to deal with. Ian's offer to them when they left in 3010 is still on file - see what you can think of to sweeten the deal."

**Sakuntalem, Kalidasa  
Free Worlds League  
15 January 3022**

Benjamin Nevis rode the impact as his _Hunchback_ crashed to the ground but he could taste blood in his mouth once his vision cleared. Expecting the enemy Mech to follow up, he rolled the 'Mech onto its back and then propped it up, looking for the target. However, the blue-and-gold _Zeus_ had seen the remaining pair of his lance-mates approach and decided against tangling with the three of them in close quarters.

"Lieutenant! Are you okay?" Bounding forwards, Messina Hobbes brought her _Wolverine_ into position to screen him.

"I'm doing just fine, Messina." Nevis levered the _Hunchback_ upright and assessed the damage. It wasn't good news, but he could still move and use all his guns, including the heavy autocannon that the medium 'Mech was best known for. "Did you spot Grissom? He had to punch out."

"We saw his 'Mech. No sign of him but there's a platoon of our PBIs up ahead so he's got a good chance of hooking up with them."

Nevis sighed and looked at his status board again. He really wanted to fall back for repairs but there probably weren't the reserves to replace his lance on the line. The Twenty-Third Marik Militia had arrived on planet just barely in time to stop the Lyrans over-running Kalidasa's capital city and too late to keep them from capturing the KaliYama factories that were the planet's main claim to fame. They'd build his own Battlemech, for example.

"Watch my back," he ordered the other mechwarrior in the lance, Russell T. Russell. 'The Rus' as he was nicknamed, set the feet of his _Trebuchet_ and swiveled his torso, ensuring he could bring his weapons to bear on any of the three roads that met at this junction. Heavy with long range missiles, the 'Mech was far from ideal for a close quarters brawl, but like this, he could fire salvos directly down the open avenues for at least half a kilometer.

Flicking his radio over to transmit the company frequency, Nevis took a deep breath. "Bowler One, this is Bowler Nine. I've just had a close encounter with a _Zeus_ in Royal Guard colours. Seems like he's pulled back to whistle up some friends and it would be real nice if I could do the same."

For a moment there was only a crackle of static. "Bowler Nine, we're a little light on boots right now, but give the word and there'll be friendly wings overhead."

"Understood, Bowler One. Bowler Nine out." He made sure the transmitter was off before adding. "Friendly wings... I've heard that chestnut before." Opening up again, this time to Messina and the Rus, he warned: "Heads up, people. If we see any movement the Captain promises to kick those lazy aero jocks out of bed, which means their Lyran dance partners won't be far behind."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Rus tilting his 'Mech's torso back and extending the arm mounted missile launcher. "Sir, I think the Lyran aero jocks woke first," he warned and then started firing into the air.

With no weapons that could reach a useful altitude, Nevis would have to rely on his lancemate to ward off the fighters. Instead he side-stepped his Mech leftwards into an alleyway, hoping the building would give him at least partial shelter while he fired into the Mechs that were no doubt about to rush the position. "Messina..."

"On it, sir." The _Wolverine_ backed up into an empty lot that would let it hit the Steiner forces in the flank if they advanced up the street.

"Bowler One, this is Bowler Nine. We're going to need that air cover the moment it's available..."

The first enemy 'Mech to appear was a _Vulcan_ - in the same colours as the _Zeus_ from before - that popped into view down the street. Apparently undaunted by the fact that it was no match for either of them, the 'Mech fired its jumpjets as soon as it spotted Nevis and the Rus, bounding forward to trade shots at point-blank range.

Audacity paid off for the Lyran: although Nevis blazed away, his huge autocannon poured fire into the facade of the building next to the _Vulcan_ rather than the Mech. The Rus broke off firing missiles at aerial targets and snapfired his medium lasers, one of them scarring the _Vulcan_'s flank and breaking up the paint-job.

"Look out!"

Nevis glanced at the rear-view of his display and saw the _Zeus_ again, looming over a low building, weapons pointed at his rear. Laser fire from Messina's _Wolverine_ sliced into it, but the big 'Mech deliberately fired a volley into Nevis' rear armour. Sparks flew in the cockpit as he fought to avoid falling again. This time he managed it and even brought the _Hunchback_ around to face the larger 'Mech - a good thing since there Hunchback's rear was now essentially unprotected. He was fortunate nothing vital had been struck.

"Where's the _Vulcan_?" he asked, unable to see it or the backstabbing _Zeus_.. The last thing he needed was for the lightly-armed city-fighter to rip into his vulnerable rear with its small guns.

"Running south-west," replied the Rus and salvoed missiles after the withdrawing _Vulcan_. "Missed."

Messina cut in: "I spot a _Firestarter_ heading the same way. Can't do anything, I've got a _Crusader_ in my face."

"Two long range heavies and a pair of light city-fighters... why aren't the lights bird-dogging us for their buddies." The answer came to him an instant too late as his thermals picked up heatspikes from the south-west. "Tell me that isn't where those infantry were operating."

"That was probably them," the Rus replied heavily as the two 'Mechs moved to support their lancemate. The _Vulcan_ and _Firestarter_ both carried heavy machineguns that could carve an infantry platoon apart in seconds - but the heatsink suggested the use of their feared flamers to root the infantry out instead.

"Operative word being 'was'."

They reached Messina easily enough and Nevis was pleased to see that the _Wolverine_, while battered, was more than holding its own against the larger Mech. _Crusader_s were designed for long range support and their close in fire was not suited to an extended firefight, which the smaller _Wolverine_ had the agility to force it into.

He was less happy when the _Zeus_ charged into the fray, almost slamming the Rus' _Trebuchet_ off its feet. Pointblank was not the powerful 'Mech's optimal range but no one seemed to have told the Lyran that and two sharp kicks shattered the leg of the Marik Militia 'Mech, dropping it to the tarmac.

"None of that," Nevis growled, centering the _Zeus_ in his sights and jamming his thumb down on the joystick's primary TIC holding it down. The lasers fired, cycled and then fired again. And again. In the meantime the massive KaliYama BigBore roared out tongues of fire as its shells tore into the much larger Mech. The autocannon's vibration was such that it took a moment for Nevis to realise that he wasn't under fire himself - the Lyran was firing past him at Messina, apparently trying to draw fire away from the crippled _Crusader_.

If that was the intention, then the mechwarrior was completely successful: the badly damaged _Crusader_ was ignored as all three lancemates poured fire into the _Zeus_, wrecking its left arm and stripping bare most of its chest. More than a match for any of them individually the assault 'Mech fell to its knees and then toppled forwards.

Sparks flew off the front of the _Hunchback_ as Nevis moved up to finish the fallen machine and he saw the _Vulcan_ hanging back outside his own range, picking away at him with its light autocannon. The damage was little more than a nuisance but with the damage taken already and the Rus' 'Mech on the ground and likely to remain that way, it wasn't something that any of them could ignore...

Which made it the ideal diversion for the _Firestarter_ which hopped suddenly into the gap between Nevis and Messina, having outflanked them along a parallel road. The first Nevis knew about it was when his ejection seat hurled him out and upwards from his 'Mech as the Lyran took advantage of the existing damage and fired its flamers and machineguns directly into the _Hunchback_'s ammunition bins.

Fortunately for Nevis' life and limbs, his parachute deployed safely.

Less fortunately, he then had a perfect view of the Firestarter jamming both its muzzle-tipped arms into the face of Messina's _Wolverine_, reducing the cockpit to a burning wreck.

With the _Vulcan_'s machinegun aimed in his direction within seconds of reaching the ground, Nevis was herded alongside the Rus, who had baled out rather than receive the same treatment. Both men placed their hands on top of their heads and watched as a small column of Lyran tanks moved up the street, an APC peeling off to take charge of them.

For the pair of them the war was over.

**Sian, Sian Commonality  
Capellan Confederation  
23 January 3022**

"This is excellent news," Maximilian Liao gloated from the Celestial Throne as Chandra Ling finished her report on the Lyran offensive. "With three worlds lost and a fourth in doubt, that dog Janos cannot spare supplies or transport to place pressure upon our border with him."

Standing between her siblings, Candace Liao could not help but agree. Of course, that fact would do nothing to help her own St Ives Commonality which was threatened by deep Davion salients, but her other responsibility was ruling over House Liao's ancestral homeworld and that had most definitely had more to fear from the regiments of House Marik.

"This is a moment of opportunity," her father continued, pulling lightly on his long mustaches. "Marik's attention is elsewhere and Davion still licks his wounds after the fighting around Tikonov." It was very much the Chancellor's style to ignore the fact that said fighting had been a substantial defeat for the Capellan Confederation. "Meanwhile our own forces are fully recovered with the addition of the resources of Brownsville."

Brownsville, a world once part of the Terran Hegemony, had been abandoned during the early years of the Third Succession War. Environmental damage from the use of nuclear weapons during the Amaris Coup and First Succession War, coupled with chemical weapons during the Second Succession War had destroyed its manufacturing and agriculture, rendering it worthless to the Successor Lords and brutally inhospitable to the surviving residents.

Eighteen months before, a lostech prospector had offered to sell the CCAF directions to a large cache of military equipment, once intended for use by the Hegemony's planetary militia but now abandoned and long forgotten a subterranean warehouse. Given the value of what he described, the requested price: rule of an entire planet, might even have been merited but the Maskirova's interrogators had managed to wear him down to the less expensive price of Capellan citizenship for himself and his family.

Once stock had been taken of the hundreds of battlemechs and armoured vehicles in the cache, the Chancellor had ordered that the matter be dealt with under the greatest of security, requiring that the prospector be quietly murdered. His wife and children would be granted the privilege of continuing to serve the Confederation however, since it had been ascertained that they had never been advised of the cache's contents.

"Serene Wisdom." Tormano Liao stepped forwards slightly and bowed deeply. "The cache found on that worlds will be outweighed in time by production from the factories of Tikonov. May your humble son petition that this opportunity be used to retake that world?"

Liao shook his head dismissively. "You are young and naive, my son, but I forgive you. No doubt that miserable Fox would anticipate such an obvious strategy. You are correct, however, that Davion should be our target. But rather than Tikonov, we shall strike elsewhere. This is our opportunity to liberate the long-lost Chesterton Commonality."

Just as Spica had been 'the opportunity to close the wound in the St Ives Commonality', Candace thought privately. When she was younger, her father's pronouncements had seemed to have the force of law. Later she had felt pity that he couldn't see how doomed his schemes were.

Somewhere along the way those emotions had become contempt for his blind obsession.

She saw Victor Hargreaves shift uneasily among the senior nobility of the Confederation that were in the attendance. The Duke-in-Exile of Chesterton might have been expected to support the goal of recovering his family's long lost domain, but he was a realist and like Candace was entirely aware that there was little or no chance of accomplishing it. Temporary success might be feasible, but a salient driven almost into the Crucis March would be inevitably be destroyed by the AFFS now that they were not fighting against the Draconis Combine.

Still, while this plan might be a disaster in the making, perhaps something could be salvaged from it. "If I may recommend, father, an operation of this scope will demand great stocks of war material both on our part and Hanse Davion would require similar quantities in order to oppose it. While retaking the Chesterton worlds is of course the objective, may I propose including the command world of Valexa in the first wave of attacks. By doing so, we may both arm ourselves from the Davion armories and disrupt the cohesion of the AFFS in that sector."

"Well thought." The Chancellor smoothed out of his mustaches. "A decisive first strike will cripple the Federated Suns response. This will require our finest troops. The Chesterton Voltigeurs must participate, of course, but the core of the task forces will be drawn from the Northwind Highlanders and McCarron's Armored Cavalry." His eyes were alight with a fearsome intensity.

"Father!" Romano forgot herself, enraptured by the vision. "Permit me to lead your soldiers in battle!"

Liao shook his head firmly. "What possesses you, Romano? I require you here at my side. Candace..."

"Permit me father, to take charge of the regiments facing House Davion's rimwards defenses," she evaded swiftly. "By feigning readiness to fall upon those defenses I shall pin the Duke of New Syrtis' eyes upon me and prevent him from sending reserves to slow your victorious advance." It would also let her justify drawing supplies out of the stockpiles amassed for this operation, supplies that might be needed to defend the St Ives Compact once Hanse Davion retook the Chesterton worlds and looked for a new venue of operations.

This time the Chancellor nodded. "Tormano, my son. I will grant you a post with the Chesterton Voltigeurs so that you may represent our House in this grand campaign."

Discretion being the better part of valour, the young man bowed his head in acceptance.

**Imperial City, Luthien  
Pesht District, Draconis Combine  
18 March 3022**

"The Lyran advance mirrors the gains made by the Federated Suns during their campaigns a few years ago," Grieg Samsonov declared coldly. "They grow stronger while our own soldiers are slack and soft."

It was as close as any of the Warlords had come to outright criticism of Cecilia's policies. She steepled her hands in front of her, allowing the corner of her lips to quirk upwards in amusement. "There are also noticeably more of our soldiers, _Tai-shu_. And their equipment is in better condition, would you not say?"

"All of what you say is correct, _Tono_," the grey-haired Warlord of Alshain Military District admitted. "However, the _will_ of the DCMS has been eroded. What use numbers or weapons if the spirit behind them is weakened?"

The spirit of the Combine's soldiers, the indoctrination to seek death in battle, had carried them onwards to victories over the more numerous and better equipped Lyran and Federal regiments on many famous occasions. The times when it had led them on to devastating defeats as a result of recklessness were less heralded.

She laughed at him. "I can promise you, _Tai-shu_, I have not spent all my time and energy restoring the bone and sinews of the Mustered Soldiery so that they can simply look pretty on parade. Not do I neglect their heart and soul, the battlefield."

"Then you intend war?" Yoriyoshi leant forwards intently. His own District and that of Hsiun Chi across the table from him would be heavily involved whether Cecilia elected to attack the Lyran Commonwealth or the Federated Suns, bordering both nations.

Cecilia inclined her head regally. "It is the business of a ruler to consider war at all times, _Tai-shu_. My agreements with Hanse Davion and Katrina Steiner have provided time to add seven regiments to our roster, more than replacing the three regiments lost to the Ronin. The Pesht Regulars have been brought to their full strength, as they have not been in generations, an unpleasant surprise for the savages in the Periphery."

That drew a smile from Warlord Shotugama. Under the cover of preparation for a punitive expedition against Port Krin, he'd managed to secretly ship the Ninth and Tenth Pesht Regulars in completely the other direction and launch a surprise assault on the pirate stronghold of Santander's World. Reinforced with additional aerospace wings, the two regiments had made a text-book assault upon the fortress of Helmar Valasek, a former AFFS officer turned pirate, and leveled the site before returning to the Combine with hundreds of pirates and thousands of their concubines, tame farmers and other support personnel in chains. The Coordinator had even authorised the use of a small nuclear warhead to ensure that the entire site was purged and prevent a second group of pirates from moving in to make use of the ruined stronghold. It was a rare moment of glory for the 'rear-area' regulars and had blooded young soldiers who might otherwise not see action for years. The booty wasn't bad either as the DCMS had been generous in allowing the soldiers to take anything not of direct military value.

"Give the word, _Tono_, and I will place two regiments on Colmar within the month," bragged Samsonov.

"If I intended war on House Steiner I would tell you to place them on Fatima and Meacham." Cecilia saw them draw the conclusion that she was considering an offensive towards the one-time Lyran capital of Arcturus and shook her head. "But I do not plan at this time to move against the Lyran Commonwealth."

Sorenson did not propose a target but at the implication of fighting on the Combine's other border, Cecilia saw the Warlord of Galedon straighten. Before he could become too hopeful, she waved her hand for silence. "Director Indrahar, please share with the Warlord Council the information your agents in the Confederation have discovered."

The dapper head of the ISF rose to his feet. "It has come to our attention that Chancellor Liao intends a lightning assault upon the Chesterton region. As yet we are uncertain how he intends to supply such an ambitious attack, but all indications are that he will obtain at least strategic surprise which suggests that the initial wave of attacks may be successful."

"Intriguing," admitted Hsiun Chi. "Were we to strike out from Ashio Prefecture, we could drive our own salient to meet with his attack, raising the possibility of severing the Davion prefecture of Addicks entirely from the rest of the Federated Suns."

With extreme effort, Cecilia refrained from verbally eviscerating the Warlord for his idiocy. He was in general her supporter and alienating him for a moment's satisfaction would not be prudent. "An interesting idea, but I have something else in mind, one that might lead to greater exploitation of such an operation in the future. Director, if you would be so good?"

"In addition," Indrahar resumed, "we have confirmed that the current Primus of the Sirian Concordance, the closest province of the Free Worlds League to Terra and thus to ourselves, has refused under their Home Defense Act, to make further regiments available to the Captain-General for the purposes of repelling the Lyran invasion. As a result, were the Concordance to come under attack, it is likely that Marik would wash his hands of them."

"Thank you, Subash." Cecilia gave him a convivial smile, reminding her generals that she was on close and friendly terms with the Internal Security Forces. "So the Capellans have committed their reserves against House Davion and the League is committed his own to fight against House Steiner, while having a disruptive province he values little upon our border."

It was Yoriyoshi who bowed his first. "Lord Kurita, your grasp of strategy casts us all into shadow. By striking past Terra and into the League and the Confederation, we will show our fangs to realms that have forgotten to fear the wrath of the Dragon. Further, the narrow corridors linking the Lyrans and the Suns to Terra will be held in a vice."

"Precisely correct. It is my intention that each District will contribute one regiment from their Regulars, in addition to several mobile and mercenary regiments to form the task forces being dispatched. Thus the entire Combine shall be represented. Warlord Hsiun Chi shall act as my second in command for the operation."

"With respect, Coordinator, since the ceasefire with House Davion nine years ago, many mercenary regiments have been allowed to leave the Combine. Recruiting a substantial force of lucre-warriors will take time and may betray our intentions."

Cecilia spread her hands and gestured reassuringly. "Be at ease, my _Tai-Shu_. Trusted officers are already securing the necessary contracts with great discretion."

**Fort Jaime, Mizar  
Isle of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth  
3 April 3022**

While the garb of a Lyran businessman was unfamiliar to him, Minobu Tetsuhara allowed no discomfort to show on his face. No doubt any agents of Lyran counter-intelligence who might be in the area would be entirely aware that he was no merchant - the bearing of a samurai was hard to disguise - but there were no laws in the Commonwealth to prohibit a visitor from adopting local garb and his identity papers made no attempt to claim that he was anything other than what he was: a DCMS soldier detached from active duty in order to serve as aide to a powerful nobleman.

"Into the wolf's lair, eh, _Sho-sa_?" Said nobleman seemed to not even notice the constraints of his own suit, although it must be far more uncomfortable for the portly man. Then again, very little seemed to bother the distinguished Chandrasekhar Kurita, sometimes referred to somewhat indecently referred to as the Coordinator's Pillar of Jade, for his financial acumen and the scurrilous rumour that he was father to Cecilia Kurita's daughter.

"It is as you say, Kurita-_sama_," Minobu replied non-committally and then paused to allow his superior to enter the conference room they had been guided to first. As he entered, he saw that although the room could accommodate dozens, only five officers sat on the far side of the table, each wearing the three stars that marked them as holding the rank of Colonel. Only one could be Jaime Wolf, but without ever having seen a picture or even read a description, determining which would require introduction or...

Chandrasekhar clapped his hands together briskly. "A child's game, eh? Well you've young eyes, Minobu, why don't you make a guess for me?"

...or it was a test. And irritating as the unconventional Kurita could be, Minobu didn't doubt that he had made his own judgment immediately and was now feigning laziness to further challenge his aide.

Put on the spot, the samurai scanned the table's occupants swiftly. Two women and three men, ranging in size and shape from the near-giant in the centre to the short man in the neat uniform at one end. It was to the latter that Minobu bowed, drawing back the opposite chair for Chandrasekhar to sit in. "Colonel Wolf, may I introduce you to Chandrasekhar Kurita, cousin and close advisor to the Coordinator herself."

For an instant there was no response and Minobu feared that he was somehow mistaken. Then the small man smiled slightly. "Clearly the honorable Kurita values good judgment in his companions." He stood and bowed slightly, his officers following suite. "Allow me to introduce Colonel Korsht of Gamma Regiment, Colonel Dumont of Delta Regiment, Colonel Shostokovitch of Beta Regiment and Colonel Carmody of our Aerospace Group."

Chandrasekhar smiled engagingly as he returned the bows and accepted the seat. "And this is _Sho-sa_ Tetsuhara, late of the Dragon's Second Sword of Light Regiment, without whose guidance I am quite bereft."

"No doubt." Wolf sat back slightly in his chair. "So, what does the Draconis Combine want?"

"Your contract with the Lyran Commonwealth comes to an end in five months, Colonel Wolf. While it's been very well paid, I imagine that it hasn't quite been as active as you would have preferred. The only heavy fighting the Commonwealth has been carrying out is against the nation your contract prohibits them from using you for."

"I'd like to think the fact your Coordinator sued for peace rather than fight us means that the Archon has had her money's worth out of us."

Minobu blinked. That was certainly a very confident statement for a mercenary to make to the representative of a House Lord - bordering on insolence, in fact. He would not have expected such a petty comment - or for Chandrasekhar to break off the discussion immediately.

"In her eyes, perhaps. You would know better than I how garrison duty can be wearing on soldiers accustomed to field campaigns." The expression on Chandrasekhar's face was pure innocence although Tetsuhara knew, having studied reports, that the soldiers under Wolf's command had been restless for almost a year, much as they had been in 3013 when Maximilian Liao kept them on garrison. Of course, the Archon's daughter probably wasn't causing the Dragoons trouble in the same way Candace Liao had...

"I think your Coordinator would agree that even the best soldiers need a respite every now and then."

Gracefully Chandrasekhar conceded the point. "The Draconis Combine has rested for some time, Colonel Wolf. But now we are reinvigorated and in confidence I can tell you that my cousin intends upon a new military offensive in the near future. In deference to your longstanding custom, I can assure you that were you to take employment with the Draconis Combine that you would be offered a place in that offensive and that it would not be against your current employer."

Wolf remained non-committal, his self-control excellent, but Minobu could see signs of interest in the proposal from Colonels Dumont and Shostokovitch. "What exactly are you offering, Mr. Kurita?"

"The Coordinator proposes a five year contract on similar terms to those you have received from House Marik, House Liao and House Davion. The exact rates would be negotiable but in principle the Coordinator suggests Yance I in Al'Nair Prefecture as a landhold and offers full command rights for your regiments and full salvage rights for all independent actions, with salvage in other cases to be divided proportionate to forces involved."

"It's an interesting offer," agreed Wolf after a moment's thought. "I'd like to know a little bit more about what we're getting into though."

"I thought you Dracs had quit hiring mercenaries," observed Colonel Korsht.

Minobu shook his head. "That is not quite correct, _Tai-sa_... uh, Colonel. We employ quite a number of smaller mercenary units in garrison roles, but with relatively little activity over the last few years the DCMS elected not to renew contracts with most of the larger forces we had previously employed. It's likely that other regiments may be hired either for the campaign or to replace regular regiments on our other borders but for security reasons, this has not been confided to me."

"As for the details of the campaign..." Chandrasekhar shrugged. "I have told you almost all that I have been told, Colonel. I can only presume that the Coordinator would prefer her plans be kept secret until the proper time. That proper time, however, will be soon."

"Hmm. Well, I'll consider it. However, I note that you didn't mention transport arrangements or supplies..." There was a degree of curiosity in Wolf's voice and both Minobu and Chandrasekhar recognised it. The fish had taken the bait and now all they had to do was reel him in.

**Avalon City, New Avalon  
Crucis March, Federated Suns  
3 June 3022**

"Notify all involved forces that Operation Roland is cancelled, effective immediately," was Hanse Davion's first order once the reports sank in.

"The regiments moving from Kentares could still follow through," Marshal Geahart proposed. "Their supplies haven't been lost and it could draw forces away from this operation."

The First Prince shook his head. "The idea behind converging thrusts was to split the local defenses. Without the attack from Valexa to split their defenses, any attack there would bog down. We might succeed, but it would take time - and supplies that we'll need to repel this attack."

The good news was that the Capellan task forces that landed on Demeter and Valexa hadn't expected there to be additional Regimental Combat Teams present, preparing for participation in Operation Roland - the AFFS plan to slice off the New Hessen salient, due to be launched in the next four weeks. The bad news was that with the Northwind Highlanders arriving on Demeter and four regiments from McCarron's Armored Cavalry landing on Valexa, the defending Battlemech regiments had been outnumbered two to one. More than half the supply stockpiles on Valexa had been destroyed to prevent them falling into Capellan hands but at least a third had not.

It was the worst military setback of Hanse's reign.

"Duke Michael claims that he is unable to send substantial reinforcements to the area," Nelitha added, tapping a communiqué with her left index finger. Folded beneath her palm, her thumb touched the warm metal of the ring she now wore on that hand. Formal announcement had yet to be made, although she had seen money exchanging hands among the other senior officers when she wore it for the first time in the Fox's Den. "In addition to the inevitable blame he places on the amendments to the PDZ boundaries last year, he also claims that there are substantial troop movements in the St. Ives and Sian Commonalities, forcing him to keep regiments in Sirdar, Ridgebrook and Alcyone PDZs on high alert."

"What utter bullshit," Yvonne Davion grumbled, drawing startled looks from officers who had not heard the grandmotherly woman use such language. "With McCarron's regiments up on Valexa, there's nothing anywhere near Sirdar or Ridgebrook that would say boo to a goose, much less the number of regiments down there."

Hanse nodded. "Alright. Cut instructions to the Illician Lancers - I'm activating the emergency clauses in their contract and I want three of their regiments redeployed to Bell as soon as possible. They've got the jumpships for it, barely and even if it takes two or three months for them to get there, the Maskirova will pick up their movements and have to worry that they could be headed for a target on the border. If Liao can tie Michael up watching the border then turnabout is fair play."

"We could probably divert enough jumpships to move the Lancers faster," Nelitha suggested, pulling up data on the whereabouts of T&R Command's fleet.

"No, instead see what you can pull together for our reserves in the Crucis March. I want the Kestrel Grenadiers, the Argyle Lancers and both Davion Guards RCTs from New Avalon to be on Farwell as soon after the end of the month as you can manage. Requisition civilian shipping if you have to. And plan on me going with them."

Nelitha bit her lip rather than disagree. Hanse hadn't taken the field personally since Halstead Station, almost a decade before, balancing his duties as First Prince with those of Prime Marshal.

He smiled at her. "I won't be leading any charges, love." Looking around the room Hanse noted that there was less surprise at the 'slip of the tongue' than might have been expected. He shook his head. "For those who haven't heard the gossip yet, General Green-Davion accepted my proposal of marriage last Sunday. There will be an official announcement tomorrow so if any of you plan to make any last minute use of the advance warning then you're sneaky, deceptive souls and you have nine hours to clean up on sucker bets."

Several officers murmured quiet congratulations at the revelation. Yvonne Davion was one of them, directing a reassuring smile at Nelitha. "But that's even more reason for you to stay here," she pointed out. "I can think of three Field Marshals offhand who'd be glad of the chance to command here - myself for one. You, on the other hand... you're not replaceable."

"I'm not going there to throw myself into the fray," Hanse told her firmly. "I loved Ian, but I'm not him. I'm going there because any other marshal in that area will have to answer to Michael. He's still the Field Marshal of the Capellan March and he'd have a sound argument that their chain of command would have to go through him. But if I'm there - in a command centre, as the field commander, then he has no recourse because I'm the one person who unquestionably outranks him in every way."

Geaheart tried to bring the discussion back to the more mundane realities of warfare. "Alright then, there are seven 'Mech regiments and Combat Teams in Valexa right now, plus a Training Battalion on Bell that I don't suppose you want to commit them against the Big MAC."

"Not hardly." The inexperienced trainees would be wheat to the scythe of McCarron's battle hardened regiments.

"Otherwise the Valexa CMM and the Davion Light Guards are being pushed back into the hills, but they'll pin down a good-sized garrison so they're where they should be. On Demeter, Redfield's Renegades managed to link up with the Second Crucis Lancers, so there's a coherent force but it's only a matter of time before they're forced to make a stand. That leaves..." The Marshal checked the map again. "The Aragon Borderers and Twentieth Avalon Hussars on New Aragon and the Sixth Crucis Lancers on Moravian."

"New Aragon is almost cut off with Demeter in Capellan hands," Hanse decided. "Liao will have a follow up force, at least four regiments. Most likely he'll try to capture the pocket, so the Borders and the Hussars are right where they should be. I'm sure the Lancers will want to rescue their brother regiment, but for now they're to hold on until we can pull some of the regiments out of Kentares."

"How many do you want? This will take them further from the Draconis border than Roland would have."

Hanse nodded. "I know. And with Kurita in secret negotiations with Wolf's Dragoons -" Dammit, Cecilia, what the hell are you planning? "- the whole Draconis March is nervous. Still... we can have the Blue Star Irregulars and Crater Cobras spread their regiments across several worlds to give us the same range of coverage and then pull the Twenty-Second Avalon Hussars and Twelfth Deneb Light Cavalry out of Addicks. They were slated for the first wave of Operation Roland anyway so they should be ready to go. If they meet up with the Sixth Crucis Lancers on Moravian that will give me a force to relieve Demeter while I take the Crucis March regiments to Valexa. The Illician Lancers are insurance against whatever else Liao throws at us."

**Altair, Al Na'ir Prefecture  
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine  
15 September 3022**

The command conference took place in a room that combined traditional Japanese architecture with modern appliances. Thus, although the floor was polished wood (and all slippers were provided to replace military boots) a holographic projector provided still imagery to back up the briefings.

Cecilia Kurita knelt on the room's dais with Warlords Hsien Chi and Yoriyoshi on their own knees, facing each other across the display. Facing the Coordinator were rank after rank of officers, mostly in the orange-trimmed white and black of DCMS dress uniforms, each of whom had been escorted to their particular place on the floor by attendants according to a rigorously calculated order of precedence and affiliation.

To his own surprise, Jaime Wolf had been escorted to sit in the front rank, alongside other general officers, albeit at the extreme left end of that rank. The only other 'colonel' or equivalent granted that status was the commander of the First Night Stalker regiment, who sat next to him. Colonels Korsht, Dumont and Arbuthnot were lined up in column behind him but their low rank had meant that Major Kelly Yukinov, the effective commander of Alpha Regiment, and _Sho-sa_ Tetsuhara, who had been assigned as the principal liaison officer between the Dragoons and the DCMS were much further back.

At the moment the holographic display was focusing on the Lyran-League border, not very far from the worlds the Dragoons had fought their way across during their unsuccessful campaign three years before to seize Hesperus II from the Lyrans. "As you can see, over the last twelve months the Lyran Commonwealth Armed Forces have occupied three border worlds and pushed deeper into the Free Worlds League. Currently, Captain-General Marik has functionally ceased to contest Amity and Kalidasa, both of which are important industrial worlds, and is focusing on repelling the Lyran regiments currently fighting on Stewart."

The ISF representative gestured with his baton, adjusting a virtual control visible to him via an electronic monocle and the internal divisions of the League flashed slightly to draw attention to them. "This is believed to be because the Stewart Commonality is one of the oldest provinces of the Free Worlds League and a long term political ally. Janos Marik's second wife was the daughter of the current Earl of Stewart and the two regiments of the Stewart Dragoons have co-operated closely with federal regiments during the fighting. The same cannot be said of the Silver Hawks Coalition, a defense league including most of the other worlds to see fighting. They started the fighting with two regiments and what's left of those is still trying to defend the planet of Concord without any noticeable success. It's believed that their refusal to coordinate with federal forces have left them ill-supplied."

"What is the Lyran position?" The question came from Warlord Yoriyoshi.

"They have focused their most intact regiments upon the fighting in Stewart, Yoriyoshi-_sama_. However, there has also been a flow of conventional regiments into their other conquests. The analysis of intercepted communications strongly indicates that whatever the outcome on Stewart, the Archon will seek no further advance but only to retain the gains so far. Doing so will substantially weaken House Marik's border positions and deprive them of, at a minimum, the KaliYama Battlemech factory on Kalidasa, which is one of their largest production sites. The aerospace factories on Amity are also highly valuable and if Captain-General Marik pursues a counter-offensive then both worlds are very likely targets for him."

Cecilia Kurita tapped the floor at her side with one finger, drawing the attention of the ISF officer. "What is the current deployment of the Third Sirian Lancer regiment?"

"The regiment is currently deployed on Stewart, _Tono_. Reports indicate that it is fighting bravely but ineffectually. As with the Silver Hawks regiments, it is in poor supply and does not appear to represent the best of the Free Worlds League Military."

"Please continue."

The officer moved his baton again and the map was replaced with that of a different sector of the Inner Sphere. "Moving to events on the Capellan-Suns border, Chancellor Liao's Chesterton offensive has been underway for four months now. After the rapid successes on Valexa and Demeter in June, they launched a second wave of attacks, hitting three worlds with five more regiments and one of their Warrior Houses. Obviously this a major commitment and most of the regiments seem to be in better condition than was expected."

"This second wave ran into Davion reinforcements and has led to less lopsided battles through July and August. The Chancellor's son Tormano landed on Chesterton with two regiments of the Chesterton Voltigeurs with very little resistance. By the end of July Hanse Davion arrived to take personal charge with the Argyle Lancers, Kestrel Grenadiers and the First and Heavy Regimental Combat Teams of the Davion Brigade of Guards. That forced Liao to call for reinforcements from Valexa in the form of three regiments of McCarron's Armoured Cavalry from Valexa. This leaves Valexa open to attack as soon as Davion can find a sufficient force to overcome the one regiment still on world."

"The other second wave targets were Almach and Algot. In the latter case we think it was a calculated move to draw out the regiments from New Aragon - if so it worked, because the Aragon Borders regiment arrived thinking it was only dealing with Warrior House LuSann. In fact, the Second New Hessen Irregulars were also present and the Borderers were forced back offworld with losses. However there's been no follow up attack on New Aragon to take advantage, presumably because the Twentieth Avalon Hussars are also posted there."

"The AFFS regiments on Demeter had withdrawn to Almach and they retreated again once the Second Kearny Highlanders, First New Hessen Irregulars and McGregor's Armoured Scouts. However, we believe they will link up with reinforcements from the Draconis March on Mira or Mesartim, both of which are likely targets for a third wave which the Chancellor does appear to intend on. We have indications that at least two more regiments are going to be moving up, presumably to clear out the New Aragon pocket."

"Thank you for that presentation," the Coordinator told the man.

"It is my pleasure to serve," he answered with a deep bow, stepping aside to leave the holographic array to Warlord Hsien Chi who accepted the baton and monocle solemnly.

"So, all four of the other Successor States are engaged in glorious campaigns and the Dragon stands aside?" the stocky Warlord observed rhetorically as he adjust the monocle. "This will not do and therefore Lord Kurita has ordered us here upon the business of war. Sixteen regiments of Battlemechs have assembled, supported by more than one hundred other regiments, the largest force brought together by the Dragon in many years. And now we will strike!"

He gestured sharply and the map shifted to display the worlds around Terra, each system represented by a small rotating globe of its habitable planet or planets. "We are to embark upon war with the Capellan Confederation and the Free Worlds League."

Worlds in both states began to glow with fiery red outlines. "_Sho-sho_ Langley, you are placed in command over your own First Proserpina Hussars, the Thirteenth Alshain and the Sixth Pesht Regulars along with their escorting units. Your mission is the conquest of the planet Bryant for the glory of the Draconis Combine."

"_Tai-sa_ McGavin, you are placed in command over both of your Night Stalker regiments and also one regiment of the esteemed Wolf Dragoons with the mission to conquer the planet Keid for the glory of the Draconis Combine."

Unlike _Sho-sho_ Langley, McGavin rose to his feet and bowed deeply to the Coordinator at this announcement. Beside him, Wolf set aside his surprise at the overall targets of the coming campaign and began to consider which regiment to send with the Night Stalkers.

"Colonel Wolf, of the Wolf Dragoons, to you the Coordinator entrusts the mission of conquering the planet New Home for the glory of the Draconis Combine. In addition to three regiments of your own force, infantry and armoured regiments will be placed under your command." The Warlord stared firmly at Wolf. "The honour of commanding any soldier of the Draconis Combine is rarely conferred upon a mercenary but your reputation speaks for itself."

"I will endeavour to be worthy of it," the mercenary replied, trying to keep irritation out of his voice.

Hsien Chi glowered at him a moment longer before looking to another man. "_Tai-sho_ Satterthwaite, the First and Second Amphigean Light Assault Groups and also the Twenty-First Galedon Regulars are placed under your command for the purpose of conquering Procyon in the Sirian Concordance."

"And for the conquest of Sirius, the Coordinator will lead the Second Sword of Light and Eighteenth Dieron Regulars to capture Sirius VI while Warlord Yoriyoshi will be granted the honour of commanding the Eighth Sword of Light and the Sixth Benjamin Regulars onto Sirius V."

The ISF officer stepped forwards and accepted the baton and the monocle again. "Regiments in the vicinity of these operations are light," he began.


	4. Chapter Three

**Altair, Al Na'ir Prefecture  
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine  
16 September 3022**

The retort of a small-caliber weapon snapped Cecilia awake. Rolling out of her futon with one hand already gripping two _kunai_ from beneath the pillows, she was only a step away from the room's sword rack when her door burst open and two burly men in DCMS infantry gear stormed in. One saw her moving and fired a short burst ahead of her. His accuracy was commendable - not a single round struck the Coordinator but she had no choice but to back away from the weapons as the rack splintered under the impact of the bullets.

"I don't recall any visitors scheduled for this hour," she snapped, glaring at the pair. On a shelf behind the door, a small clock showed that it was not quite three o'clock in the morning.

"A thousand apologies," Warlord Yoriyoshi announced insincerely as he walked through the door. Like the two soldiers, he was armed - in his case a modest pistol in one hand and the swords of a samurai at his hip. He glanced at Cecilia measuringly, a reminder she could have lived without that the babydoll chemise she wore to bed was only thin silk. Outside of a battlemech she almost never dressed in such a revealing fashion.

Yoriyoshi lowered the pistol slightly. "I regret to advise you that there is a plot to undermine your authority, Coordinator. Warlord Hsien Chi was assassinated less than an hour ago."

"Shall I speculate as to who is behind this scheme or shall we speak bluntly, _Tai-Shu_?"

"By all means, Coordinator Kurita." The Warlord bowed mockingly. "You need not concern yourself: these fine soldiers and the three outside the room are my most loyal soldiers and our conversation will be in the utmost confidentiality. But please... the knives first."

Cecilia gave him a sour look and looked hard at the two soldiers before casting the kunai underarm at the damaged sword rack, embedding the sharp blades a centimetre deep in the wood. "So how is it precisely that you plan to undermine my authority?"

He did not attempt to deny the accusation. "Allow me first to express my admiration of you, Lord Kurita. Your mastery of the Pillars of Teak, Ivory and Jade are an example against which all future Coordinators will be measured. It is not and never has been any desire of mine to deprive you of the rank and office which you hold."

"The omission of two Pillars is telling. You object to my handling of government and military affairs."

"I regret that I must speak of this for I do not doubt that you have striven to your utmost in both roles," Yoriyoshi told her with feigned modesty. "But there have been lapses that I must ascribe to your gender since your heritage I must concede as without flaw. Your absurd taking prisoners on Tamar betrayed your weakness, as did your swiftness to make terms with Davion." He gestured sharply. "I have studied your duel against their Prince and it is clear you had the better: for what reason did you not slay him like the dog that he is?"

"Clearly you believe you have an answer to the question." Cecilia's voice was cool and her words tempered but there was fire in her eyes.

"Coordinator, you lack the will, the hardness to do what should be done. It is the same in your government of the Combine: your policies are well crafted, but you must rush energetically to pursue them when a true Coordinator expresses his will simply and lets others scramble to put them into practise."

"The Coordinator _serves_ the Combine, _Tai-Shu_. Idleness is no virtue in a servant."

"Then I must ask of you to serve the Combine by addressing these failures." Cecilia's failure to indicate submission had begun to crack Yoriyoshi's restraint - he produced a sheaf of documents and brandished them. "By signing these, the Combine will be placed in order and Harmony restored to us all."

Cecilia caught the papers when they were flung to her and leafed swiftly through them, eyes flickering incredulously at each bold declaration. "_Gunji-no-Kanrei_?" she exclaimed at the second to last of them. "Do you imagine you are Urizen reborn? You're not my brother."

"But I will be your husband," the Warlord proclaimed confidently.

Her eyes narrowed, Cecilia discarded all but the last page, letting the others scatter across her bedding. This one she read in careful detail, nostrils flaring in outrage. She laughed harshly, eyes flickering dismissively past the soldiers. "What insanity leads you to imagine I would agree to this?"

Yoriyoshi stepped forwards and since Cecilia would be damned rather than back off from the challenge, this placed them nose to chin. The warlord placed his left hand almost but not quite touching her left hip. "I would hope that your devotion to the Combine would convince you to do the right thing," he murmured. "But if that is not sufficient then I will not hesitate to use force."

"Do you think I fear death? A dead coordinator is worse than nothing: my successor would use your destruction as a rallying cry, the same way I used Takashi's death against Marcus."

He leaned closer and almost whispered into her ear: "I didn't say I would use force against _you_." Involuntarily a shudder went through Cecilia, a mix of disgust at the feigned intimacy and horror at the implications of his words. Yoriyoshi was far too close to miss her reaction and stepped back, a satisfied smile upon his lips. "Shotugama is my man first, Coordinator Kurita. And this morning I received a coded message from him to confirm that he has removed your daughter from Luthien and to a secure location where she will be cosseted and cared for as befits a daughter of the Dragon... for exactly as long as you co-operate with me."

Any response Cecilia would have made would have been obscenities and she wasn't going to let him make her lose control like that.

"Besides which," he shook his head. "One daughter is simply not enough, you should have married and had more children long ago. You have an obligation to your dynasty, Coordinator, and who better to father a son for you than your preeminent Warlord?" Yoriyoshi's eyes flickered across her scantily-clad body again, causing her disgust to rise past her rage again. "If you would prefer not to sign those documents tonight... we could begin working on that immediately."

"Such a choice that you present me with," Cecilia told him grimly. "To procrastinate on being your pawn at the price of being raped?"

"Given you would prostitute loyal soldiers by placing them under the command of a mere hireling, I would imagine that selling your body should be an easy step."

"It's just barely possible that you might manage that. But you'll sire no child on me this night," the Coordinator assured him.

The Warlord stepped forwards and she allowed him to grab her by the wrist. "I've obtained copies of your medical records so don't pretend you're barren."

"It's difficult to impregnate a woman who already has a child in her womb." And then she drove her knee up into his groin.

The two soldiers in the room had spaced themselves to be able to see her without Yoriyoshi being an obstacle but with him physically holding her, there was a brief window in which neither had a clear shot. The opening was enough for her to yank the Warlord's wakizashi from its scabbard with her free hand and drive the short sword sharply down into his inner thigh as he folded over her. Judging by the spurting blood, she'd managed to hit a vein and she yanked the sword free, hurling it like a dart at the soldier nearer the sword rack while she dived for it.

The thrown sword missed, but it distracted him long enough for her to reach the rack and his companion had decided that the better part of loyalty to Yoriyoshi was to drop his gun and pull out a field medical kit before the Warlord bled out. What neither of them expected was that the Coordinator didn't slow down, instead hurdling the rack and curling into a ball as she struck the wall - which gave way like the pointed balsa wood that it was.

Thirty seconds later when the three soldiers who had been left in the antechamber to Cecilia's bedroom tried to pursue the fleeing Coordinator, they found only a small, empty room hidden behind it.

**Altair, Al Na'ir Prefecture  
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine  
16 September 3022**

Cecilia was almost but not entirely sure that Shotugama was not working for Yoriyoshi. There had been a delicate exploration of the Warlord of Pesht's loyalties both before and after the contemplative man's appointment to the position and he had never shown the any sign of sharing the opinions that the traitor had just expressed, even long before the two came into contact. It was probable that he had had some idea of what Yoriyoshi was about, but almost certainly he would not have had sufficient proof beforehand to betray his former superior.

Under those circumstances, pretending to fall in with Yoriyoshi would make sense and Siriwan was safe. Certainly she was well-protected so an abduction was unlikely to succeed anyway. The Coordinator hoped that she wasn't allowing herself to be misled by wishful thinking.

However, thinking about that right now would do nothing to help. She needed to isolate Yoriyoshi, to prevent the spread of his influence. Doing so would require a radio to communicate.

There was a muffled explosion behind her, suggesting that Yoriyoshi's men had resorted to method number one of finding a concealed door: blow up the area and see what happens. Cecilia ran faster, the concrete floor of the passage cold beneath her bare feet. She also had to escape him personally. This would require transportation, preferably transportation with a radio so that she could address her other priority.

The passage she was in exited into one of the main corridors of the palace - a risk, but a necessary one. As it turned out, she was fortunate and while there was a guard patrolling the passage, he had just walked past the concealed exit as she cracked it open. Seeing that the man was only wearing a field cap rather than a helmet, Cecilia picked up the gold plated bust of a former Planetary Chairman and smacked the soldier over the head with it.

After replacing the bust on its plinth, she picked up the unconscious soldier and dragged him into the nearest room. She didn't have much time, but even an ill-fitting DCMS jumpsuit was going to be less eye-catching than running around in blood-stained underwear. Judging by the trickling blood from under the man's cap, he wasn't going to be needing it for a while. The Rorynex submachine gun was another bonus - she wasn't the best shot in the universe but at close quarters the large-calibre assault weapon and two spare magazines would more than compensate.

A glance out of the room's window told her that the vehicle park, containing not only the palace supply vehicles but also the fleet of limousines and military staff cars that could usually be whistled up on a moment's notice was under guard with a two platoons worth of personnel carriers and even a handful of light tanks covering the entrance. So much for making an exit from there.

After a moment's thought she removed the fallen man's cap and wiped it out before drawing the bill down slightly over her face. There was one other source of transport - even better, armed transport that would have a full band of communications gear - and it was remotely possible that Yoriyoshi would have overlooked it.

Walking out of the room, she headed for one of the discreet stairwells into the facilities beneath the palace. Twenty-four hours previously, the hangers had been half-full, with a company of Otomo 'Mechs that would accompany Cecilia if she entered the battlefield personally. However, the Ronin Warlord would know that the battlemechs had been loaded onto their dropship the previous morning. Her hope was that he would not realise that the last minute arrival of a TOR-A _Tiger_ prototype meant that the lucky _Tai-i_ Yeng Sum Lee had been reassigned to that 'Mech and his own _Vulcan_ left in the hanger.

Here her luck was not as good. While the hanger wasn't guarded as well as the vehicle park, a soldier - this one wearing helmet and body armour, sporting a powerful laser rifle - was posted at the bottom of the stairs leading into the hanger. While his position would be a grenade trap, she had no such weapon and he was probably only one of a squad so gunfire would draw attention she did not need.

For a moment she considered trying to bluff her way through, but there was no way that Yoriyoshi would have been slack enough not to make sure all his forces were able to recognise her at a glance. It wasn't as if her face wasn't well known anyway - she'd appeared in motivational art for the DCMS since 3015 when Jasmine 'discovered' an artist who had portrayed Cecilia in full dress uniform, a black dragon wrapped protectively around her. Current estimates were that ten percent of the DCMS had purchased copies for 'patriotic' purposes, or at least that was what they told officers spotting who spotted the prints on the wall of barrack rooms and other occupied spaces.

Vanity goeth before a fall, she noted soberly and considering what she knew of the hangers' other entrances. Unfortunately, this was her first visit to Altair and the only reason she'd known about the hidden exit from her room was the security briefing from the ISF before her arrival. Finding a way into the 'Mech hanger hadn't featured in that briefing and this was the closest door to the bay occupied by the _Vulcan_.

Okay, the hard way it would have to be. She pulled a spare clip of ammunition from the pocket of her jumpsuit and weighed it in her hand. It didn't look much like a grenade but...

"Grenade!" she snapped and flung it over the stair's rail, bouncing it off the opposite wall and towards the guard. It didn't make much sense to shout that - if she was really throwing a grenade then the last thing she'd want to do was draw attention to it - but the power of suggestion is considerable and with a fast moving metal projectile hurtling into the confined space, the soldier took the bait and curled up on himself, hoping his body armour would be sufficient to avoid being spread across walls, floor and ceiling.

It did remarkably little to stop Cecilia from putting half-a-dozen hollow point rounds into his thigh, half-severing a leg, and two more merciful rounds into his face as he reflexively relaxed from the ball he'd curled into in favour of clutching uselessly at the wounds.

There was no time to waste so she slammed the door open and charged into the hanger, leading with the SMG. Fortunately she was correct in her recollection - she only had to cross one empty 'Mech bay to reach a ladder that could take her to the cockpit level gantries - and even better there was no one immediately present to try to stop her although. Shouts of alarm indicated that the gunfire had drawn attention and even worse there was the sound of boots from the gantries above.

Cecilia sprayed what was left of the magazine up into the air, hoping she wouldn't hit anything actively hazardous and that the soldiers would be motivated to keep their heads down for a moment or so, and then discarded the gun rather than waste time slinging properly as she ran for the ladder.

More shots were fired, fortunately none directly at her, but she could still hear the boots from above and climbing a ladder is not exactly quiet in combat boots, particularly when they're about two sizes too large. Twenty feet is further to climb than it is to walk so she settled for fifteen and then grabbed the edge of the gantry with one hand and swung by it to grab a pipe underneath it.

Her shoulders reminded her just how much she'd hated upper-body strength exercises in basic training. Who knew that one day she'd need them. So that left her dangling from the bottom of the gantry with no real cover from anyone except whoever was above her.

Another desperate swing let her latch onto the other side of the gantry just as the footsteps reached her position. "I don't see anyone!" an accented voice called out. Azami, she realised. But none of the Arkab Legions are on planet.

There was the whine of a bullet that came entirely too close and the voice cursed. "Stop shooting at me, you dogs."

Under the cover of the noise, Cecilia grabbed the edge with her other hand and then strained upwards to reach the lower of the gantry safety-rail's rungs. Since she could at least get her hand around this it made it easier to pull herself up behind the soldier. The scrape of her boot against the top rail betrayed her presence and the man was half-turning as she jumped off, her borrowed boots crashing into the man's shoulder. The collision spilled her face-first onto the metal floor but her target was sent tumbling off the gantry with a scream that cut off twenty feet lower than it began.

Cecilia scrambled upright, clutching at her noise which felt as if it might be broken. Her hand came back with blood, supporting that diagnosis. Still, it beat being shot, since the soldiers below prudently opened up with lasers and gunfire. Scrambling, without coming fully upright, she ran for the cover of _Vulcan_ in the next bay.

_Tai-i_ Lee's 'Mech had been upgraded to the 5T variant when he was accepted into the Otomo as a lance commander, trading out the long-range autocannon for three additional medium lasers, more heatsinks and more armour. Normally only Lee or a trusted technician could access the 'Mech without a time-consuming override of the security systems. However, all Battlemechs used by the Otomo were fitted with an alternate set of security codes known only to the Coordinator, in case of a situation like this one. Cecilia had been working on the mnemonic she used to remember the applicable codes - with over a hundred unique codes to remember, memory tricks were a necessity - and managed to undog the hatch on her second attempt.

Once inside she slapped the main reactor switch before reaching up and securing the hatch. Now essentially immune to small arms fire, she peeled off the top of her borrowed jumpsuit - it would soon be baking inside the 'Mech and strapped the cooling vest behind the command couch on over her chemise. The frigid fluids inside raised goose pimples but she'd need it soon enough. Hastily she began strapping herself in - not just the safety straps but the cables for her vest and for the medical sensors. The reactor's hum was rising to a rumble, almost but not quite familiar for the forty-ton _Vulcan_ used a substantially less powerful engine than her usual _Grand Dragon_ despite being the faster of the two 'Mechs.

Status boards were lighting up and Cecilia noted with regret that the heavy machine gun in the left arm lacked ammunition. Pulling down the 'Mech's neurohelmet she shortened the chinstraps and then shifted it back and forth on her head until she was sure it was making the proper connections. The main computer was lit up waiting for her to provide a voiceprint before it unlocked full functionality. "Don't tickle the dragon, its laugh is deadly," she instructed it, and the targeting lit up, confirming she had full access.

With a thump of giant feet against the floor, the _Vulcan_ started to stride away from its bay. One foot soldier, braver than he was bright, continued to fire on her. Cecilia brought the right arm flamer cross-body and burned him away. The massive hanger doors yielded a moment later to fire from the four main lasers, the barrage raising the temperature inside the cockpit, and then Cecilia was striding out into the night, mobile and armed with the most deadly tactical and strategic weapons known to the armies of the Succession Wars: a BattleMech and a radio.

**Altair, Al Na'ir Prefecture  
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine  
16 September 3022**

Minobu Tetsuhara stared stoically at Colonel Wolf, who sat on the opposite bench of the prison wagon that they were confined in. Ambushed on their way back to the Dragoon cantonment, the regiment and battalion commanders of the mercenary unit had been caught in staff cars that would certainly not be proof against the heavy weapons of the Benjamin Regular Battlemechs. Even so, Minobu would have preferred to make a fight - better to die honorably than to be taken captive - but Wolf had shaken his head at the notion and by decree of the Dragon herself, the mercenary was Minobu's superior officer now.

"What do you think Yoriyoshi is up to?" Wolf asked.

Dumont shook her head. "How do you know it's the Warlord and not the Coordinator?"

"The Coordinator has nothing to gain by this treachery," asserted Minobu. "She desires your services in battle against the Capellan Confederation. Only a fool would think that this is a method that would provide that, and Cecilia Kurita is no fool. As for Yoriyoshi, who else would the Benjamin Regulars take an order from when that order places them in conflict with their Coordinator?" He looked at his manacled hands. "I can only assume that this stratagem is aimed at her."

"Then she'd better deal with it fast," Dumont said bluntly. "After New Delos, a situation like this can't help but have our junior officers jumpy. I won't be surprised if Kerensky wasn't already out with her Black Widows looking for us and she won't do so in a diplomatic fashion."

"For the first time, I believe I would be glad to see Captain Kerensky."

Despite the situation, a couple of Dragoons chuckled at Minobu's solemn statement, taking it for humour.

"So, two possibilities. Either he succeeds or he fails. What happens then, _Sho-sa_?"

Minobu considered Wolf's enquiry. "The Warlord is considered liberal with regard to the employment of mercenary regiments. If he is successful then it is likely you will all be released swiftly with apologies that over-enthusiastic subordinates misinterpreted his request that you be placed in protective custody."

"And if he fails?"

"Then you may expect attempts to liberate us once Altair is otherwise secured."

"Ah... I note that you don't mention your own fate there?"

"Oh. Yoriyoshi will have me executed if he succeeds." Minobu glanced down at his manacles. "If we are rescued then I will petition the Coordinator for the right to _seppuku_ in order to atone for my surrender to his forces."

Kelly Yukinov leant forwards to stare at him. "You'll what?"

"It is the height of disgrace for a Kurita samurai to permit himself to be captured. By taking the dishonour upon myself, I will spare my father and brother the shame."

"What if the samurai did so on the orders of his superior officer as a matter of deception against an enemy of House Kurita?" Wolf asked thoughtfully.

Minobu pursed his lips in thought. "That is permissible, if frowned upon. If successful then the deception would weigh upon the karma of the superior officer in question."

"_Sho-sa_ it seems to me that Warlord Yoriyoshi had us imprisoned to prevent us for interfering in whatever he is up to. Therefore as soldiers in the service of the Draconis Combine, it is incumbent for us to escape and foil his plan. Since capture was the only alternative to execution and being unable to stop him, you surrendered on my orders as your superior. Does that satisfy your honour?"

"Yes Colonel. As long as we succeed of course. Do you have a plan to escape?"

Wolf's response, if any, was cut off as a tremendous force crashed against the nose of the prison wagon, sending it spinning off the road. Dragoons inside were tumbled about as the vehicle came to rest on its side.

"That wasn't me," Wolf told Minobu frankly as he wriggled out from under the larger man, who had landed on top of him. "But I'm not averse to taking advantage of the opportunity." He nodded up to where the heavy door to the wagon had come ajar. "Everyone out!"

Struggling to his own feet, the samurai joined forces with Major Fields of Epsilon Regiment's Able Battalion in hoisting the battered Dragoons to their feet and up out of the door. Within moments the group were freed, if not from their bonds, then at least from confinement.

Outside, they found the wrecks of two DCMS personnel carriers that had evidently been escorting them. However before any of the Dragoons could explore the cab of the prison wagon for keys to their manacles, the source of the destruction presented itself: a _Vulcan_ battlemech in the black colours of the Otomo, its searchlight stabbing out to illuminate the group.

"Mechwarrior!" Minobu called out boldly. "If you are loyal to the Coordinator, you must take her a warning. The Warlord of Benjamin is engaged in a plot against her."

There was a snap of static as the Otomo mechwarrior opened the 'Mech's loudspeakers and then: "That is correct, _Sho-sa_. I assume from your confinement that you are not one of his Ronin?"

"I am not. I had the privilege to serve under the command of Yorinaga Kurita and would never disgrace the loyalty he showed towards the Coordinator." Minobu raised his fists to point at the war machine. "You must hasten to the palace and protect her."

He was surprised to hear the mechwarrior laugh before replying. The protection of the Coordinator was the paramount duty of the Otomo! How could this woman treat it so lightly?

Then the _Vulcan_ bowed at the waist, reminding him of Morgan Kell's gesture to Yorinaga two years ago. "_Sho-sa_, I salute you. I am Cecilia Kurita and your loyalty reflects well upon my esteemed cousin."

**Altair, Al Na'ir Prefecture  
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine  
16 September 3022**

"Thank you for the offer, Colonel Wolf, but I don't believe it would be wise for your unit to be further involved in this." Cecilia did her best to remain calm, as if she handled military coup attempts on a weekly basis. It was actually more or less biannual but usually the attempts were dealt with before she had to straighten matters out personally. "However, I believe I will have to impose on you slightly with regard to your role in the coming campaign."

"What do you have in mind?" Jaime Wolf called up from the ground.

Cecilia had knelt the _Vulcan_ over the prison wagon rather than dismount - not something she cared to risk since a lance or two of Ronin were probably mobilised looking for her right now - and had been speaking via loudspeaker. Now she used the cockpit controls to open the hatch and let down the rope ladder used for field access. "For one thing, I'm going to need to reclaim your liaison officer. I know it will be difficult to get by without him there to hold your hand..."

Several Dragoons seemed to develop choking conditions.

"...so to simplify command arrangements, please consider yourself in charge of operations on both Keid and New Home until such time as the Night Stalker regiments become available. I'd appreciate it if you could embark as soon as possible. Orders will be relayed to the conventional units assigned, but it is possible that there will be some last minute rearrangements of those." Unspoken was that she was unsure how many regiments previously assigned to the New Home attack had sided with Yoriyoshi rather than be placed under the command of a mercenary.

Wolf nodded, his posture exuding calm confidence now that a key had been found to remove his chains. "Alright. We'll need to obtain some transport to get back to our cantonment, but that shouldn't be too difficult."

"Thank you, Colonel. I do appreciate your forbearance with this little embarrassment."

"It's quite alright, these things happen." His tone was perhaps just a little sarcastic.

The Coordinator's voice was flat. "It's so nice to be working with a professional. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go talk to a man about a dog. I'll notify your headquarters by radio once I'm in motion and less likely to draw pursuit down on top of you."

Minobu was barely at the hatch before of the Vulcan before the Battlemech started to walk away. He scrambled in, cramming his two metre frame in behind the command couch with some difficulty. Cecilia took one hand off her controls to tap a jack built into the side of the cockpit. After a few moments searching, the samurai found a headset that would plug in. He only wished it came with a helmet, because the _Vulcan_ wasn't the smoothest ride he'd ever been in.

"You know the Dragoons and more importantly, they know you," Cecilia told him. "You deal with alerting them to the situation while I talk to the ISF."

"I understand, _Tono_," he answered, setting aside with some effort his discomfort at sharing a confined space with his liege lady. He would have thought that dealing with Natasha Kerensky would have inured him to female mechwarriors, but apparently the Kurita was even more distracting. Manipulating the controls by the jack, Minobu tuned towards the Dragoon frequencies.

"Captain Cameron, this is... this is Major Ironman," he announced, deciding that it would be safer not to use his own name. The Dragoons would presumably recognise his voice and the nickname that some wag had given him. "Do you read me?"

A moment later his confidence was repaid with the voice of William Cameron, one of Wolf's own command lance and Alpha Regiment's chief communication officer. "Ironman, this is Cameron. You're behind schedule, aren't you?"

"We are experiencing transportation difficulties. Please advise Captain Kerensky that we are currently three kilometers south of the bar where Mechwarrior Harlowe embarrassed himself last week." Mirth Harlowe, one of the Black Widows, had been vocally disappointed to discover that the graceful strippers advertised in said bar were not female. His expression of said displeasure had required intervention by the Civilian Guidance Corps and the Dragoons paying for repairs to the bar. There was no chance that Kerensky would have forgotten the incident.

"That's not quite where we're picking you up from, Major." Cameron's voice was suspicious.

Minobu tried to think of something to say that would be convincing. Nothing sprang to mind. Alright, so the Dragoon was suspicious. How to make that work for him? "Yoriyoshi is playing Anton."

"What!"

"Please recover Colonel Wolf before Captain Kerensky has to revisit New Delos." Minobu cut the line without further elaboration and hoped that institutional paranoia would be enough to convince the Dragoons to launch a rescue mission. Ending his own conversation left him free to hear Cecilia's end of her own, not through any desire to eavesdrop but as a result of simple proximity.

"If you will excuse me, Kurita-_tono_, I do not understand your reasoning in ordering the ISF to abduct the Demi-Precentor of the Altair HPG station."

"Hold on a moment, I need to make a couple of calls before they do that." Cecilia used the communications set to patch into Altair's local telecommunications network. "Hello? ... Yes, I'd like to send two utmost priority messages. ... No, that's fine, I know what it will cost. ... Yes, audio only." She reeled off a string of numbers, identifying the bank account that was to be used. "No, that's alright, sorry to wake you. ... Yes, first message is to Precentor Dieron care of her official residence. Are you ready? ... Myndo-_chan_, I'm terribly sorry to be the bearer of bad news but a reactionary group has threatened to abduct a ComStar official. The _Kakun_ are closing in upon the group but please look to your security, just in case. ... Yes, that's all for that message."

Behind her, Minobu gripped the command chair. He didn't understand what strategy the Coordinator was pursuing, but for stakes less than high treason, involving ComStar would be a remarkable escalation.

"The second is to Warlord Ivan Sorenson in the Office of the Commander, Galedon City, Galedon V. ... _Tai-shu_ Sorenson, I regret to advise you that Warlord Yoriyoshi has elected to declare himself as a Ronin. I am therefore appointing you as the new Warlord of Benjamin Military District. _Tai-sho_ Bernstein of the Third Proserpina Hussars is promoted to replace you as Warlord of Galedon. I authorise the transfer of the First and Fifth Sun Zhang Academy Cadres to Benjamin District to ensure that you have sufficient loyal samurai to restore order there. Message ends. ... Yes, and to you."

She cut the channel. "My apologies, _Sho-sa_ but it is necessary to ensure that ComStar send those messages before they find out about the Demi-Precentor."

"But why abduct him in the first place?"

Cecilia guided the _Vulcan_ over a small river, hopping it with her jumpjets. The landing led to Minobu's head colliding painfully with the hatch above him. "One of the reasons that ComStar Adepts are so loyal to the organisation is the principle of solidarity: an offense against even a single representative leads to retaliation by all of ComStar. There's even an official and enforced list of responses to be made ranging from punitive fines up to national interdiction, depending on the precise offense - although in the latter case, the entire First Circuit would have to confirm the orders."

"In the case of a ComStar official being held to ransom, the prescribed response is a planetary interdiction until the official or officials are returned. So the moment that the ISF send a ransom demand for the Demi-Precentor, the HPG station will close for business and Yoriyoshi will be cut off from whatever support he has off Altair. That's why I had to pay for utmost priority: to have those messages sent without waiting for the usual daily batch transmission."

"But what if Y- if the Ronin has already sent orders?" asked Minobu.

The Coordinator's voice was calm. "Then I must trust in those I have left behind."

**Altair, Al Na'ir Prefecture  
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine  
16 September 3022**

The sun was rising over the palace when Yoriyoshi reclaimed control of his forces from _Tai-Sho_ Shazli. The last three hours had been unpleasant - the sword would had very nearly been a mortal one - and the use of powerful painkilling medication had left the rogue Warlord unable to exercise command and barely able to comprehend that Cecilia had successfully able to escape the palace.

The pain was almost similarly overwhelming, but he endeavoured to bear it stoically. "Who is taking off?" he demanded, seeing the contrails of launching dropships crossing the sky.

"We have confirmations that the Wolf Dragoons are departing, sir. Similarly the Night Stalker and Amphigean Light Assault Groups and approximately half of the conventional regiments on planet." Shazli gestured helplessly. "They appear to be maintaining strict radio silence and it's too early to say exactly where they are going."

Yoriyoshi grimaced. "She's isolating questionable regiments. The Wolf Dragoons and Night Stalkers are in her camp - she's using seven loyal regiments to keep fifty regiments out of this. I take it that the Dragoon command staff is not accounted for?"

"The convoy moving them has dropped out of contact, so I assume so."

"Unfortunate but there's nothing to do now." Yoriyoshi drummed his fingers on the wooden rail of the balcony he was standing on. Get word to Shotugama: "Climb Niitakayama." He drew his lips back in what might have been considered a grin. "There's something to say to the classics."

Shazli swallowed. "Warlord, ComStar has placed Altair under Interdict. It was announced an thirty minutes ago."

"What! Why?"

"The... Yoriyoshi Dynasty Society kidnapped one Demi-Precentor Kalafon and have declared that he will be tortured to death if ComStar does not withdraw its services from all planets that do not renounce Cecilia Kurita as the Coordinator. The Society claim - falsely, I presume - that they act on your behalf."

"Of course it's false!" the Warlord roared and then flinched, one hand creeping to his injury. "She must have set it up, the bitch!"

"_Kanrei_, there is every likelihood that the Coordinator is on one of the Dropships leaving. If she is beyond our reach..."

Yoriyoshi stared at the sky. "No. That's not her way. I'll grant her that, she is samurai. She will be with loyal regiments and march to face us."

"In that case, lord _Kanrei_ we must strike swiftly."

"Don't call me _Kanrei_." He turned from the balcony. "When she escaped us, that option also eluded us, my friend. Now she must die if we are to live, if the Combine is to return to its true course. By the time that the sun sets, either I will be Coordinator of the Draconis Combine, or I will lie dead on the battlefield."

"With respect," Shazli observed, "You are in no fit state to pilot a battlemech."

"The jump seat of your _Cyclops_ will suffice then." Yoriyoshi started limping towards the stairs. "We have your Sixth Benjamin Regulars, the Sixth Pesht Regulars, the reliable members of the Eighteenth Dieron Regulars and an organised force of tanks and infantry that we can rely upon. She cannot be sure of the other two Regular regiments yet and the only conventional regiments within a day's march are those we are sure of, so she will have only Proserpina Hussars who are without their precious _Sho-sho_ and two Sword of Light regiments, many of whom are sympathetic to our cause."

The _Tai-Sho_ walked after his master. "I will detach a reconnaissance squadron to observe the dropships. If things go poorly for the Coordinator then she might recall them for reinforcements. Where do you intend to strike first?"

"The Coordinator will wish to use her own Battlemech, which is loaded aboard the _Sabakukaze_," Yoriyoshi said thoughtfully. "The Proserpina Hussars dropships are landed at the same port facility -" During the Star League, Altair had been a centre of commerce and required no less than six separate spaceports, spaced around the city. Four were still in operation, making it a natural location for gathering so many dropships together. "- so she will call the Sword of Light regiments to join her there. Gather our regiments at the edge of the city nearest that spaceport and we will march there in three assembled columns."

**Altair, Al Na'ir Prefecture  
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine  
16 September 3022**

Back in the familiar confines of her _Grand Dragon_ - and even better, having had time to take a thirty-second shower in the dropship's crew quarters and don her own clothes - Cecilia had positioned herself near the spaceport gates which were anchoring the centre of the loyalist line.

They had been preparing to move towards the city when a flight of _Sabre_ aerospace fighters fleeing _Sholagar_s from the planetary militia reported Ronin battlemechs and tanks moving out of the city. Since the Ronin were being so accommodating as to refrain from forcing her to root them out, Cecilia had ordered the Second Sword of Light to fan out to the right of the gate and the Eighth Sword of Light to move left, leaving the First Proserpina Hussars in the centre.

The result was a frontage of nine battalions formed up across an area no more than three and a half kilometres long and perhaps two hundred metres deep as the various lances positioned themselves in the general formations they expected the fight in. A short distance behind this were the command companies - Cecilia had been able to use the relative peace of the last few years to provide Battlemechs and Mechwarriors for battalion command lances and regimental command companies to most regiments of the DCMS - and Cecilia's company of Otomo stood with her next to the command group for the Proserpina Hussars, sadly lacking _Sho-sho_ Langley's presence although her _Dragon_ was being piloted by one of the regiment's reserve mechwarriors. Finally, each regiment had a fourth battalion held back as a reserve and in the case of the Proserpina Hussars, to provide security to the artillery group that had been aboard the Dropship _Sabakukaze_ alongside the Otomo.

A total of over five hundred battlemechs stood ready for battle in a space that would usually only accommodate a battalion or two.

"Today will live forever in the annals of House Kurita," _Tai-i_ Lee observed cheerfully from his _Vulcan_. Normally a Tai-i would be the company commander but the minimum experience required to join the Otomo combined with their relative lack of action left them with a prevalence of company grade officers and Lee was only a lance commander despite holding a more senior rank. He'd preferred to use his family's 'Mech himself rather than loan it to _Sho-sa_ Tetsuhara (who Cecilia had made a mental note to promote at some point soon) so the liaison officer had been assigned the _Tiger_ prototype instead when he went to join the Second Sword of Light on the battlefield. Cecilia was mildly disappointed that she probably wouldn't see the Battlemech's debut.

"I'd prefer to think of it as a footnote," she replied drily. "'On the Sixteenth day of the Ninth Month, the Coordinator suppressed a rebellion and then had breakfast.' Something like that. Yoriyoshi doesn't deserve the respect he'll get for this battle."

Of course, the Warlord did have almost four hundred battlemechs and about the same number of tanks so it might be a little too early to begin the victory celebrations.

"Even if we win, this is going to set the campaign back by months."

"You still intend to continue with the invasion?" The senior of the three lance commanders, _Tai-i_ Sorenson (a distant cousin of the Warlord by the same name) sounded startled by the idea. "Even after..."

"I'm not about to let that treacherous piece of filth have the satisfaction of knowing that he's as much as disturbed my digestion." Unfortunately the very thought brought back a surge of nausea and Cecilia had to hastily unstrap her helmet and grab a bag from one of the equipment racks in the cockpit, spilling ration bars over the floor as she hastily upended it and then shoved her face over the opening. Bleeagh

Sorenson's _Wolverine_ moved closer and she thought she could hear his muffled voice coming from the helmet. Finally sure that she was done with the bag she tossed it into a waste receptacle and wiped her mouth before redonning the helmet.

"-there? Coordinator, can you hear me?"

"Yes, _Tai-i_. Don't mind me, I just had to throw up."

The Otomo officer hesitated at that bald statement before asking: "Are you well? You could return to the dropship and speak to one of the Physicians of the Dragon."

Cecilia sniffed dismissively at the ridiculousness of that suggestion - withdraw to a dropship while her soldiers were facing imminent battle! - but after a moment decided that Sorenson's concern at least merited an honest explanation. "It's not unusual for women in my condition. I thought I was done with it, but apparently not. Don't worry, chances are it won't recur."

"What condition?"

She sighed. Samurai, male, and as far as she was aware the man was single. "In six or seven months, the Combine will have a new heir. It's unclear at this point if it's a son or a second daughter."

Sorenson's voice was horrified. "You're pregnant? My lady, you should not be on the battlefield."

"Oh for pity's sake. I'm not an invalid and if this battle is lost then I and both my children will die anyway. I'm not even showing yet." She rebuckled the neurohelmet and then started as dozens of cannon fired behind her. Looking at the corners of her display, the usual compression that turned a 360 degree view into a 160 degree coverage across the top of her cockpit, she saw one of the self-propelled artillery pieces adjust the angle of its Thumper cannon and then fire a second time, the forty-ton vehicle rocking on its wheels.

Based on the Hetzer assault gun but with the armour cut back in order to create space for a turret, the vehicles were something of a project of Cecilia's. She'd contracted Quikscell to develop two designs for Joint Equipment Systems in part as an effort to help boost the economy in Alshain District after the damage done by the war against Cherenkoff. This would be their first field test and in her opinion, if even half of the shells being fired were hitting the approaching 'Mechs and tanks then the Thumper Artillery Carriers would be off to a good start.

Up in the air, Ronin aerospace fighters were streaking towards the port, intent on strafing the loyal regiments. Unfortunately for them, while Cecilia had ordered questionable tank and infantry regiments away, she'd gambled that most of the aerospace wings, answerable to the Admiralty rather than the Mustered Soldiery and with a higher proportion of female soldiers, would favour her and disembarked them first. As a result, the Ronin aero lances found themselves drastically outnumbered and outmassed with lances of interceptors desperately dancing away from entire squadrons of medium fighters as attack fighters barreled past them under the cover of her own interceptors. Cecilia noted with amusement that a number of the interceptors struggling to evade were Lyran _Seydlitz_ and Davion _Sparrowhawk_s, captured in previous generations from their home nations. Easily identifiable to the more homogenous loyalist wings, they bore the brunt of the fire from _Slayer_s as well as the handful of new Combine-manufactured _Samurai_ and _Spad_s that were in the sky while _Sholagar_s on both sides were more likely to be given the benefit of the doubt by pilots wary of the friendly fire.

As a result some of the fighters did get through and started firing into the Mechs on the ground. This, of course, made their allegiances obvious and opened them up to fire from both _Spad_s in the air and the 'Mechs on the ground. In addition, the turrets of the other half of the artillery group swiveled to add their own barrages to the groundfire leaping up at the light fighters. Based on the same chassis as the Thumper Artillery Carriers, the Herzog Light Missile Carriers packed respectable firepower for their size, each turret letting loose three times as many missiles as Cecilia's _Grand Dragon_. They didn't have the ammunition to keep up the air cover however, so after the initial wave they stopped firing and started to move forwards to join the front ranks of BattleMechs, where their remaining salvos would be most useful. One gunner gave her a jaunty salute as his vehicle rolled past the foot of Cecilia's 'Mech.

"We have visual contact," came a report from the Eighth Sword of Light. "Hovertanks and light Mechs. We request permission to engage them."

Although she could not be seen, Cecilia shook her head as she switched her transmitter over to the brigade frequency. "Negative, I repeat, negative. _Tai-sho_ Torisubo, hold your position until the Ronin's main force is within seven hundred metres." In theory, Battlemechs had a battlefield horizon of around eleven kilometers, so the enemy would still be well outside of range. "Let them wear themselves out coming to us."

It wasn't too long before Cecilia saw them too. The screening elements of the advancing force hadn't been too badly hit by the attacks - they were fast enough and spaced sufficiently to be less than ideal targets for artillery and airstrikes, but here and there she saw signs of damage and lances of three, which probably meant that there were crippled or destroyed 'Mechs and tanks left behind them. They were approaching from an oblique angle and she was tempted to move the Second Sword of Light around... but once the samurai started moving it would be tricky to keep them from charging.

The artillery kept firing, loader mechs from the spaceport cargo handling facility pressed into service to carry reloads as one lance at a time ceasefire just long enough to restock their ammunition.

**Altair, Al Na'ir Prefecture  
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine  
16 September 3022**

In a number of ways Minobu found the _Tiger_ to be very reminiscent of his family's _Panther_, Katana Kat. That 'Mech was now his brother's and would be found among the Seventeenth Benjamin Regulars, light years from here. The _Sho-sa_ hoped that they would not share the fate of their sister regiment, turning against the Coordinator in pursuit of their Warlord's ambition.

With the Eighth Sword of Light now heavily engaged against the Sixth Pesht Regulars and several tank battalions, the main force of the Ronin had struck at the First Proserpina Hussars, attempting to force their way through their ranks to the Coordinator. Left unengaged except for some harassment by hovertanks, _Tai-sho_ Tengwan had ordered the regiment to reorientate themselves to face the centre of the battle-line and prepare for a charge into the enemy flank.

The _Tiger_ kept up easily with the _Panther_s that made up the bulk of what had once been Minobu's own company and was now under the command of _Tai-i_ Akuma. Minobu had previously known Jerry Akuma and had wondered on occasion if the man's ruthless and ambitious nature was the cause or the consequence of the ill-omened family name.

Given the difference in their rank, Akuma had voiced no objections when Minobu placed himself alongside the company. In return Minobu had refrained from offering either command or criticism - the harmony of the company had inevitably found a new equilibrium without him and it would serve nothing for him to seek to assert himself as if he were still their commander.

Instead he positioned his 'Mech at the shoulder of the company's lone _Dragon_, an aged machine with the tell-tale signs of a machine owned by the DCMS rather than being the heritage of a samurai house. This surprised him as Akuma had introduced the young Mechwarrior - who must have graduated early from Sun Zhang to achieve the necessary five years of service to enter the Sword of Light - as 'our own Kurita'.

"I am not familiar with your Battlemech," the young man observed casually as the company reach its assigned position in the battle order. The other companies in the battalion were still moving up, a sign that Akuma was at least highly efficient as a commander. "Has it been in your family long?"

It was a courteous way of enquiring without broaching the conclusion drawn by Akuma and two other officers Minobu had encountered thus far: that the _Tiger_ was a 'frankenmech', pieced together from battlefield salvaged and of no true heritage. The styling of the armour plates, intended to mimic that of a medieval samurai, had once been fashionable to disguise the origins of such Battlemechs.

"No," he replied calmly. "This is a prototype being considered by the DCMS for production. This will be the _Tiger_'s first taste of battle. The specifications are pleasantly realistic."

"My father told me that any battlemech had two weaknesses: the designer who thought he'd created an unstoppable war machine and the mechwarrior who believed that the designer was right."

Minobu had heard the same maxim, although not from his father. "Then your father is a wise man. However, Lexatech appear to have been kept from undue optimism by somebody. I'll see how it works."

"Move out." Akuma's order cut across their conversation.

Looking around, Minobu saw that the rest of the regiment was still moving into position. Still, perhaps the _Tai-i_ had received orders to form a vanguard. The Regular regiments' motley of camouflage colours was pushing aside the lighter 'Mechs of the _Proserpina Hussar_s, the blue and green painted _Jenner_s and _Panther_s following their doctrine and spreading out to outflank their opponents. They might not have been the best choice of regiment to act as the anvil of the loyalist lines.

"What about the rest of the regiment?" enquired the young Kurita.

Akuma's voice was condescending. "If they want the glory of rescuing your cousin, Akira-_san_, then they will have to be faster off the mark." His _Panther_ stalked forwards at a walk and the rest of the company started moving after him, Minobu staying alongside Akira Kurita's _Dragon_ as they hit the clear ground and Akuma led them up to assault speed: fifty kilometers an hour.

Behind them, the order of the Sword of Light collapsed as red-painted Battlemechs streamed after them, any semblance of a plan lost in the driving need to close and engage with the Ronin.

A pair of Scimitar hover tanks skimmed across the field ahead of the charge, turrets swiveling to bear upon them. Minobu engaged one, the PPC and autocannon from the _Tiger_ blowing open the left flank of the hovercraft, causing it to spill air and lose speed. A moment later missiles and cannon rounds from Akira's _Dragon_ savaged the wounded tank which staggered. One corner hit the ground and it flipped entirely, one crewman trying to jump clear only to be dashed brutally against the ground.

"I like the cannon," noted Akira. "Perhaps they will offer them as an upgrade for our _Dragon_s."

Minobu was also impressed. He had been told that the weapon ran a little hotter than the Imperator-A used on the _Dragon_, but the older weapon didn't have the same punch. If it hadn't handled the range so well, he'd have suspected it of being copied from those used by House Davion's _Centurion_ and _Enforcer_ medium battlemechs.

There was no time to reply as they crossed the remaining distance to the Proserpina Hussars and Akuma led them through the Hussar lines and into a company of the Benjamin Regulars. Minobu bypassed a damaged _Jenner_ and picked out a green and tan mottled _Panther_ as his target and fired both weapons at it. His PPC missed but the autocannon tore open the right flank of the smaller 'Mech. A second later the _Panther_'s right arm was flayed of armour by another _Panther_, this one from Akuma's company. Minobu grimaced at the interference in the battle but despite the best of intentions, the battle was descending into a frantic melee with Mechwarriors firing at whatever targets they could find rather than dueling opponents one on one.

Akira maneuvered left, straight across his path, splitting his fire between two Mechs - his autocannon and long range missiles unable to effectively lock onto the _Jenner_ from a moment before so he shot past it into the back of Minobu's target. Rather than letting another _Panther_ focus on Akira's rear, the samurai closed in to the point that he could add the chest-mounted small laser to the fire he poured into it. The shots tore into the left chest and the ammunition bin within detonated, the scores of SRMs within tearing the 'Mech apart.

The close ranges were actually causing problems - PPCs and LRMs had trouble locking on, which was giving the advantage to fast-movers like the _Jenner_s over the longer-range platforms. Minobu saw an _Archer_ staggering and lashing out with lasers, the massive missile bays no use against the light lance that were tearing into well within the two hundred meter effective minimum range of its main weapons. Firing his jumpjets, Minobu moved the _Tiger_ backwards to open the range up a more practical one and then he and Akira smashed punishing shots into a _Jenner_ that shot past them. Armor plating fell away and the light 'Mech staggered but kept moving.

Another _Dragon_ strode closer, this one with resplendent tiger-striped paint. A _Panther_ that Minobu recognised as Akuma's fired its PPC, the charged particles tearing the face off the already damaged cockpit, immolating the mechwarrior within and causing the mighty battlemech to freeze in midstride. It was a superb shot and Minobu could not but approve of the _Tai-i_'s skill.

"Keep moving!" Akuma barked. "The Coordinator needs our help."

Lines had broken down and 'Mechs moved back and forth, as often as not opening themselves to attacks from one enemy as they tried to defend themselves from another. Perhaps half a kilometer ahead, a short line black-painted battlemechs was fighting as one though, forming an organised line as they deliberately concentrated their fire on the largest 'Mechs in their path, which was inexorably leading them towards a cluster of heavy and assault 'Mechs: a _Marauder_, _Victor_, _Zeus_ and _Cyclops_. The latter was almost certainly that of a senior officer among the Ronin.

One of the Otomo's black 'Mechs fell, a _Grand Dragon_. There was only one other of that type in their ranks now though and Minobu had seen earlier that the company had boasted three in addition to the Coordinator's. He could not see _Tai-i_ Lee's _Vulcan_ either, suggesting that the good natured officer had already fallen - only six battlemechs remained in the line, although they were supported by volleys from the missile carriers behind them, so the _Grand Dragon_s must have received disproportionate attention in an attempt to kill the Coordinator.

"Hit the heavies from behind," ordered Akuma briskly and the remaining ten battlemechs of the company, including Minobu, opened fire as they moved up behind the left flank of the lance. Their red paint schemes marked them as part of the Sword of Light, but their orientation in the direction of the Ronin attack was drawing as much fire from the other loyalists as it warded off from the traitor Regulars. The company's _Ostscout_ which had somehow managed to survive the charge lost both legs when a Proserpina _Hunchback_ pushed its way close enough to bring its autocannon into play - one leg was shattered by the shells and the other, already badly damaged, snapped like a twig as the recon battlemech hit the ground.

Trusting that actions would prove more illustrative than words, Minobu turned his guns on the rear of the _Zeus_, daring the rear-mounted laser due to his confidence that his primary weapons had a good chance of rupturing the armour plating that covered the larger Battlemech's back. The autocannon shot was low - possibly the targeting computer was overcompensating for the recoil - and the burst blew plates away from one thigh, but his particle projection cannon smashed into the torso, below and behind the Lyran-built machine's left arm and he saw sparks flying from the laser mounted there.

Still behind Minobu, Akira picked the same target and as the _Zeus_ turned on its heel to face this new threat, autocannon rounds dug into the plates that flanked the cockpit. Missiles wreathed fire ineffectually around the shoulders of assault 'Mech but a moment later, it was the Tiger that shook - targeted by the same _Hunchback_ that had brought down the Ostsol. Armour was peeled away over the left side of the prototype's chest but the vitals within appeared unscathed.

The other medium 'Mech seemed likely to follow up, but another black battlemech landed next to Minobu on pillars of flame from it's jumpjet, the _Wolverine_ stabbing fire from its laser into the now visible joints of the _Zeus_'s right shoulder. With a crash, the entire limb fell away. Almost grudgingly, the _Hunchback_ switched target and unleashed a mighty salvo into the leg that Minobu had already savaged.

Minobu intended to continue tearing into the now blackened and smoking assault Mech but he saw the Cyclops trying to break away, limping determinedly in the direction of the last of the Otomo company's _Grand Dragon_s - the one that must be the Coordinator or else the Otomo would never still be advancing. Both 'Mechs were battered by the battle but the _Cyclops_ was half again the size and its ancient Zeus-3 autocannon would rip through the remaining armour with ease once it reached close quarters.

The situation called for decisive action. With a heartfelt whisper of "Banzai," Minobu pushed the Tiger forwards onto an intercept course. He fired his jumpjets propelling the _Tiger_ in ballistic arc to cover the last hundred metres. Although startled, the Ronin mechwarrior twisted at the last moment, firing his arm-mounted lasers upwards. One shot missed entirely but the second punched into the hole driven into the left side of the _Tiger_'s chest, smashing through one of the jumpjet assemblies and depriving Minobu of control.

The two battlemechs collided the impact of almost fifty tons of metal driving the _Cyclops_ to the ground. The _Tiger_ hit badly and one hip twisted, reduced to immobile metal sculpture by the crash. It was laid out on the ground, unable to rise as the Cyclops staggered to its feet. Minobu was elated to see that the autocannon muzzle was visibly bent and therefore useless.

Barely hindered by the myomers trailing from one damaged ankle, the _Grand Dragon_ moved smoothly closer and fired a single, deliberate salvo of missiles at a range of under two hundred metres. With its armour shattered, even that relatively small volley smashed brutally into the _Cyclops_ and a moment later the Coordinator's laser fired as well, carving a slash across the arm that the larger 'Mech had flung up to shield its cockpit from the missiles.

Akira's _Dragon_ and Akuma's _Panther_ reached them a moment later but an eerie peace seemed to have settled upon the battlefield, weapons fire dying away. Seeking the cause, Minobu managed to lever the _Tiger_ up and onto its side. From there he could see a line of battlemechs in the green and white of the Alshain District Regulars moving up behind the Proserpina Hussars.

Cecilia Kurita's voice boomed out of loudspeakers from her 'Mech and also across a dozen radio bands. "You are surrounded and outnumbered, Ronin. Die fighting and you will only weaken the Combine. Accept your punishment and I promise one last opportunity to die in its service."

There was a long hesitation among samurai afraid to be the first to accept the offer. Finally one _Whitworth_ lowered its arms, pointing laser muzzles at the earth and went still. In succession, 'Mech after 'Mech shut down, their mechwarriors emerging reluctantly to face the justice - or vengeance - of the Coordinator.


	5. Chapter Four

**Altair, Al Na'ir Prefecture  
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine  
17 September 3022**

"_Tai-sho_ Tengwan gives me mixed reviews of you, _Tai-i_ Akuma."

The audience with the Coordinator was taking place in a formal reception room at the spaceport. After the attempted coup, Cecilia had decided not to return to the palace and was sleeping aboard the _Sabakukaze_. The arrival of the Thirteenth Alshain Regulars to reinforce the defensive line and the Twenty-First Galedon Regulars emergence from the city behind the Ronin had sealed the fate of Yoriyoshi's cause.

Akuma said nothing in response to the Coordinator's words as they didn't seem to be a question.

"He speaks highly of your efficiency and of your valour. Unfortunately, he also seems to feel you are insubordinate. Certainly your actions in the recent battle would seem to support that assessment." She set down her tea cup on the dais beside her. The surviving nine mechwarriors of Akuma's company were formed into two ranks in front of her with Minobu joining the first row to bring them both to five. They had not been offered tea. "It's possible, of course, that the Ronin command lance would not have reached my position even had you not intervened. Then again, perhaps they would have in which case your intervention may well have saved my life and averted a civil war within the Combine."

The _Tai-i_ bowed his head. "If my fervor has led me into error, _Tono_, then I offer my regrets and shall endeavour to improve myself."

Cecilia smiled slightly. "It would seem that you are a poor subordinate, _Chu-sa_." Akuma's eyes flicked for an instant from the floor to look at her. "Yes, you hear me correctly. I do not think that I can send you back to _Tai-sho_ Tengwan, it would set a poor example, but I am promoting _Tai-sho_ Conti of the Fifth Sword of Light to be the new _Tai-Shu_ of Dieron and the necessary reorganisation opens a battalion command for you in that regiment. In this case your initiative has been of value to the Dragon and it merits the reward. Remember to balance it against obedience and you may find yourself rising further in the future."

Iron self-control kept Akuma from showing a reaction. A two rank promotion was an unusual reward for valour, but for saving the life of the Coordinator it seemed meagre. And she chastised him for not obeying that old fart Tengwan? I could have killed you easily, you pregnant cow, the newly promoted officer mused. Doing so on then would have helped Yoriyoshi, the rival to his own patron however, so the time had been right. He'd play the obedient samurai for now though.

"I live to serve," the scheming officer said out loud, the ritual words automatically coming out of his lips despite his hidden anger. Then a shiver went through him as he saw a knowing look on her face. Adopting a grateful expression he straightened.

"Yes. You may select three of your subordinates to take with you to your new command as your command lance," Cecilia told him. "The Department of Substitution have been notified to expedite the orders so advise them of your choices swiftly."

She gestured dismissively. "You are all commended for your actions yesterday. With the exceptions of _Chu-i_ Kurita and _Tai-sa_ Tetsuhara, you may return to your duties."

Akuma grit his teeth as he led the other seven soldiers out of the room. A double-promotion for that hidebound Tetsuhara after he wrecked a no doubt valuable prototype! And officer's rank for the Kurita, for nothing more than his family name no doubt! He wouldn't forget this humiliation.

Cecilia watched his back and said nothing until the doors to the room had closed. Then she shook her head slightly and looked at the two remaining officers. "Congratulations on your promotions."

"Thank you, Tono. I live to serve," they replied in unison, with deep bows.

"Oh stop that and sit down," she told them and waved to the floor in front of the low dais.

Hesitantly Tetushara sank into _seiza_ in the indicated place but Akira remained standing. "I am... unworthy," he said stiffly.

"Put your daddy issues aside for a moment, we'll get back to them in a minute."

The younger Kurita's face twitched as he obeyed. Cecilia drummed her fingers on the wooden floor, giving him a disapproving look before turning to Minobu. "I'll want you to write up your opinion of the _Tiger_ for Lexatech but were there any particular characteristics you found notable?"

Minobu nodded his head slightly. "The autocannon is certainly an improvement. Will it be made available for refitting existing battlemechs?"

"Perhaps in time," she told him. "The specific unit on the prototype is salvaged from a cache of Star League equipment but Lexatech have made considerable progress in replicating it. I'm glad to hear that the funding I've directed to them is being spent in a good cause. The first productions runs may need to use Imperator-A cannon while the details are being worked out."

"Unfortunate, but the battlemech itself should still be sound."

"Good." Then Cecilia smiled wryly. "And since you've done so well, your promotion comes with another difficult job. One that might actually be considered slightly degrading I'm sorry to say. But it does need doing and it needs an officer I have confidence in."

"I'm honoured by your trust."

"No, you don't understand. I'm putting you in command of the Fifteenth Legion of Vega."

Minobu was struck speechless. Despite his words a moment before - despite the _Coordinator_'s words a moment before - the reputation of the Legion of Vega was such that his first thought was still: what did I do wrong?

"Yes, that's... about the reaction I was expecting. And that is the problem. During the Succession Wars the Legions of Vega made some degree of sense as expendable troops but I'm not happy with using them as a dumping ground. The Legions are all about adversity and a warrior who can thrive under adversity is a warrior I can use. I'm asking you to try to use the Fifteenth to rehabilitate the soldiers under your command. If you can manage that then maybe we can redeem the Legions and turn them into a useful military force."

"I live to serve," Minobu told her, still reeling from the idea. "May I ask..." He hadn't heard that there was a Fifteenth Legion of Vega. "Is this a new regiment?"

Cecilia nodded sympathetically. "You can appoint officers as you please, but the bulk of your numbers will be drawn from the surviving Ronin. I realise it's little consolation but given the number of them, you will undoubtedly have more soldiers under your command than any other _Tai-sa_ in the Mustered Soldiery - and a genuine combined arms force, since you'll be taking on the infantry and tank forces as well. So if you have any daring tactical ideas then this is your chance to experiment."

"You're giving the Ronin another chance?" Akira asked tightly.

"Some of them, yes. Not the officers, for obvious reasons." Cecilia studied his face. "It isn't the Ronin that bother you, is it?"

Akira's hands clenched tightly where they rested on his knees. "May I ask, Lady Coordinator, why you have not permitted my father to atone for his failure on Tamar?"

With frightening sharpness, Cecilia drove the knuckles of her free hand against the wooden floor, but when she spoke her voice was steady. "Yorinaga has business left undone. I would think he would have..." Her eyes locked onto Akira's. "What did your father tell you of our conversation after Tamar?"

The younger Kurita stared at her, startled by the glimpse of anger from his cousin. "I - _Tono_, he said only that he was permitted to live out his life in contemplation. That he wanted me to live without regrets."

There was a long silence. "He did not tell you of Zaniah?"

"Zaniah?"

Minobu had been uncomfortably silent as the two Kurita spoke but now he added his voice to the conversation. "A planet in the Lyran Commonwealth, part of the Isle of Skye, on the border with the Free Worlds League. I do not know it's significance here, but I presume that it relates to your father's duel against Morgan Kell."

"Yes... you were there then?"

"I was." The memory of the hills of Tamar, the Second Sword of Light surrounding the Kell Hounds' First Battalion sprang alive in Minobu's mind. He could see again the red-and-black _Archer_ of Kell facing the all-red _Warhammer_ as they struggled. "Yes, I was there."

"Kell is on Zaniah." Cecilia's words fell into the air with great weight. "Like Yorinaga he has sought seclusion from the world, wrestling with what happened on Tamar. Your father believes that he saw two years ago was the Yellow Bird... the ultimate danger to the Combine. What Morgan Kell believes I could not tell you, but he is at the Monastery of Saint Marinus on Zaniah. If your father is to commit _seppuku_ then I require that the swords he gave to Kell be reclaimed."

"_Tono_... I do understand. Why do you ask this?"

"Akira, if Kell is what your father believes then he must be confronted. The Yellow Bird may be the nemesis of the Dragon, but the Dragon does not flee it. Those swords are not just metal. Your father has placed his honour into Morgan Kell's hands and until that is resolved, he is not free to end his obligations."

Akira Kurita looked as if he had aged years in the conversation. "I ask a boon, _Tono_. We are at peace with the Lyran Commonwealth so there is no barrier to my travelling to Zaniah. I ask your leave to do this."

"I will grant you leave of absence from the Second Sword of Light to do this," Cecilia agreed swiftly. She saw his composure breaking down and gestured sharply. "You may go."

The young samurai burst to his feet, bowed sharply and then all but fled the chamber.

"Family business," said Cecilia ruefully, "has a way of taking over conversations. My apologies to you _Tai-sa_."

"It is of no moment," Minobu assured her. "I was fully absorbed in considering the organisation of the regiment you have entrusted to me." The lie - threadbare given that he had actually participated in the conversation - was a politic one and Cecilia did not challenge it. He continued: "I imagine that equipment will not be in ready supply for some time."

"Quite the contrary. I want your regiment in action before the end of the month. As that leaves you only two weeks to organise before you embark, your regiment has first call on the equipment previously used by the three Ronin regiments. I imagine that they will suffer enough on Procyon, without being burdened with war machines that exist only on paper."

"Procyon? Within a _month_?"

"Yes. It's the best defended of all five first wave targets - the Second Sirian Lancers are said to be an able regiment - and your Legion will have sole responsibility for its defeat and the conquest of the planet."

Minobu shook his head. "On such short notice..." Many of the new Legion would die. He was unsure whether Cecilia was be glad or regretful of that fact, but it would also either bind the new force together or destroy it. Either way, the Combine would benefit. "As you told me, _Tono_, the Legions are all about adversity."

"Are you married?" Cecilia asked abruptly.

Minobu blinked. "Yes. With three children."

She nodded and changed the subject, beginning to outline her intentions for the captive Ronin.

**Altair, Al Na'ir Prefecture  
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine  
23 September 3022**

Myndo Waterly climbed out of the ComStar blazoned helicopter with apparent calm but as she walked from the landing pad through into the lounge that opened off it, there was a distinct element of stalking in her gait.

"I do believe that she's upset about something," Cecilia noted coldly and then tapped controls to shut down the closed circuit cameras that had relayed the image. She then closed off the cabinet that contained the display unit and walked over to an armchair, picking up reports on the reorganisation of the invasion forces. She'd granted considerable authority to the five men commanding the operations but she still had to stay on top of their decisions.

She'd read three pages and was coming to the realisation that she couldn't remember more than a few details from them when a quiet knock on the door alerted her that she was about to receive her guest. Even so, she waited until the door was opened and Myndo set foot inside before looking up. "Welcome to Altair, Precentor Dieron."

"Thank you, Coordinator."

Waterly took the armchair facing Cecilia's and placed a small document case in front of her on the room's coffee table. They both waited until the door was closed before they spoke again.

It was Waterly who spoke first. "I've had to speak to the rest of the First Circuit about this, Cecilia. The kidnapping of a ComStar official is a terrible precedent, even if he didn't come to harm."

"Quite. Of course, given that the precedent for the average citizen of my state was that doing so led to an Interdiction and to the ISF crushing their little band of would-be revolutionaries with extreme prejudice I doubt that it will be considered an example to be emulated." Said little band had been twenty-one civilians who might or might not have been sympathetic to Yoriyoshi and three ISF officers who had been supposed to be keeping the warlord's activities under control and under the circumstances were willing to volunteer for the role of being gunned down by their fellow agents and presented to ComStar as 'evidence' that the ISF had not only rescued the confused and fearful Demi-Precentor but also eradicated the group responsible.

"The First Circuit was pleased by the prompt response of your law enforcement," agreed the Precentor. "However... well, I'm very sorry, Cecilia but they do believe that if we hadn't been so openly on good terms, hadn't been co-operating on the educational initiatives... then ComStar would probably not have been drawn into the matter."

Cecilia frowned, unsure where Waterly was going with this."They are blaming us for his abduction?"

"Tiepolo is blaming _me_," the Precentor snapped out, her voice tight. "He doesn't understand what we're doing here. He... It is the decision of the First Circuit that I have become too involved in the interests of the Combine. Tiepolo has convinced them that my energy would be 'better applied' to making good the damage to ComStar's position in the Free Worlds League. I'm being reassigned as Precentor Atreus."

"No!" Cecilia exclaimed sadly. "That's terrible." It was overstating her feelings - Waterly was a known quantity but on the other hand, some distance would delay the realisation that despite the Precentor's input into the educational reforms Cecilia was pushing, they really weren't intended to lay the grounds for a Blakist intellectual revolution. This was the Draconis Combine and revolution was unharmonious.

"I know. You're going to have to deal with Rachan from now on."

"Rachan... hmm, I don't think I've met him." She hadn't although she had read the ISF file on him, just as she had for all the top Precentors in ComStar.

Waterly's face twisted in anger. "He's ambitious." Pot, meet kettle. ""And he has no real faith in Word of Blake. He merely mouths the teachings because he believes it will help him obtain temporal power."

"Thank you for the warning." Cecilia rubbed her eyes. "We can still keep in contact though?"

"Of course." Waterly smiled craftily. "Rachan may take over as Precentor but he can't replace all my people. They will watch him and make sure that messages can be sent without his knowledge."

The Coordinator relaxed back into her chair. "Is Tiepolo going to continue the interdiction of Altair in some sort of face-saving gesture?" She'd had a jumpship relay messages to Dieron, but it still slowed communications to the point she hadn't heard back from Luthien yet.

"Officially, Precentor Rachan will lift the Interdiction when he arrives, but that could take weeks," Myndo admitted. Then her smile grew kinder and she pushed the document case across the table. "However, just because Altair is not receiving messages does not mean that none are sent to Altair."

Cecilia almost snatched the case, pulling out the communications inside. The first letter was from Shotugama himself and confirmed her basic suspicions: he'd been approached by Yoriyoshi but never given anything incriminating enough that he could have sustained an accusation against the senior Warlord. Even the order to 'secure' Siriwan had been presented in such obtuse terms that the Warlord of Benjamin might have weaseled his way out of trouble. There had also been the uncertainty over which members of his staff might have been suborned.

The important information was presented on the second page: Siriwan had indeed been removed from Luthien, but not to Pesht. Instead, Shotugama had arranged for doubles of Cecilia's daughter and Tomoe Sakade to be guests of his household on Pesht while the real pair were on their way to another location. Shotugama didn't mention exactly where but reading between the lines, Cecilia was sure she understood where they could be found.

That hadn't stopped Yoriyoshi's agents from doing some damage in the process, however, and incipient tears tickled the corner of Cecilia's eyes as she saw that while Constance had only been discreetly confined to a Pillarine abbey, Aunt Florimel had expressed her outrage at the palace coup physically. It probably wasn't the fault of the soldiers who had restrained her that she suffered a fatal stroke while in the attempt - despite being an octogenarian, Florimel had spent more than half her life studying the martial arts of the Order of the Five Pillars and therefore only one of the two soldiers was alive when Shotugama to impaled them for harming a member of House Kurita. Not that a broken neck from being thrown down a flight of stair excused the other one from execution.

"Good news?"

Cecilia nodded, setting aside the fact that Myndo had surely read the letters before handing them over. "Yes. Very good. My daughter is safe." She looked at the letter again. "Hmm. It doesn't say anything about Jasmine." She leafed through the papers. "Ah, looks like she's alright and she's Shotugama's guest along with the fake Siriwan and Tomoe. Although she's calling him Hirushi. Hmm. That sounds almost as suspicious as his asking her opinion of his love poetry."

"I'm sure you're making something out of nothing," Waterly - who was perhaps half the age of the middle-aged couple - said primly.

"And I'm sure that they think they're being very discreet." Cecilia put the rest of the documents aside. "Thank you. Really. I've been... It's been a grave concern that Siriwan might have been hurt. Are you sure you won't get into trouble for this?"

"It'll be fine. According to the records, they're in a sealed case that will be delivered to you once the Interdiction is lifted."

**House of Government, Atreus City  
Atreus, Free Worlds League  
19 October 3022**

"What do you mean the Combine is invading us?"

Paul Marik nodded his head firmly to confirm the report he had just presented to his father. "The official notice from Primus Grise only mentioned Procyon but our agents report that ships have jumped into the Sirius system as well. It seems to be a major offensive with at least four battlemech regiments."

Pulling himself out of his chair, Janos Marik walked to the wall where a strategic map of the Free Worlds League was marked with pins marking the locations of regiments not only in his service but of his enemies, both foreign and domestic. The aged Captain-General unhesitatingly counted the Primus of the Sirian Concordance among the latter and he tapped the pins indicating regiments of the Sirian Lancers in order. The First regiment, on Pollux. The Second on Procyon and the Third - what was left of it - on Stewart, under the command of his nephew Duncan.

Then he glanced over at the red pins that stood out from the green background that surrounded worlds in the possession of House Liao. "A week ago we discussed the Combine's invasion of the Capellan Confederation, Paul," he reminded the intelligence officer. "Was that a feint?"

His youngest surviving son shook his head. "No father. Wolf's Dragoons and two House regiments are fully engaged on Keid, Bryant and New Home. Given the conventional support reported, they have to be making a genuine effort to take those worlds."

"But those House regiments are who - Nighthunters, was it? They sound more like mercenaries than a DCMS regiment."

"The Nightstalkers, sir. They were raised by a retired DCMS Colonel who seems to be a favorite of the Coordinator."

"Whatever. No Sword of Light. No District Regulars. And these attack forces, have they been identified?"

Paul consulted his notes. "The force attacking Procyon appears to be spearheaded by a unit claiming to be the Fifteenth Legion of Vega. We don't have any record of such a regiment and it's unclear if there is a second regiment there or if they're simply heavily reinforced." He shrugged. "As for the Sirius force, as of yet we have no information to judge by."

"Ha. Twenty-five Eagles say that they're Arkab or another Legion of Vega. Not Regulars, anyway." The Captain-General stabbed his finger at Sirius, out of all the worlds that looked to him for protection, the closest to Terra. An ungrateful province, at least under Grise. They'd been problematic since the little state was formed out of the wreckage of the Terran Hegemony and fought over in the First Succession War, but Grise had abolished the democratic institutions of the Concordance (a deed Janos would not confess to envying at times) and not only kept two-thirds of the Sirian Lancers pinned down keeping him in power but had systematically concentrated all the best equipment and mechwarriors into those two regiments, leaving the only regiment available for Janos to make use of a wreck of a unit. "Kurita's holding her real forces back. She's testing us."

Paul's eye also went to the map. Stewart was the only world still being fought over and while it appeared that his cousin Duncan might win it, the whole FWLM knew that it was because Katrina Steiner preferred to secure her hold on more defensible worlds rather than risk the gains by pushing too far. "You think she believes you can't push her off the Concordance."

"I believe that she believes, that I won't." Suddenly bereft of his former energy, Janos returned to his chair. "She may be right."

"With the Lyrans halted -"

"With the Lyrans halted, Paul, we have a border fractured and demanding more of our troops than ever before. And the troops I have there are battered and in no shape to fight a campaign against fresh DCMS regiments. I'd have to strip the Capellan border more than I wish to, or spend what little influence I still have in the Parliament..."

When his father fell silent Paul thought for a moment that he had fallen asleep. It would be a first - the Marik was taciturn and old but not yet feeble - but mortality was more than acquainted with Janos Marik and there would have to be a first time.

"Leave me," Janos ordered abruptly when the silence had gone beyond awkward. "Send for Bronwen."

Paul was glad to go, even if it meant dealing with his father's mistress - Bronwen Rafsani had more than a touch of the uncanny about her, although he was too honest to pretend that he didn't understand what Janos saw in the woman only a few years older than his younger children.

As the door closed behind Paul, Janos leant his head back and weighed his options. It was tricky judging the motives of someone who he not only had never met but that also made a habit of keeping her motives and personal life from everyone around her. It made Cecilia Kurita's profile almost useless and Janos wished that he'd been able to wrangle a place at the table on Mars where she'd met Steiner and Davion. The fact that the three of them had actually met must have given them considerable insight if they'd been willing to trust the others to leave their borders alone.

Hmm. There was an idea there. Cecilia had at least overseen the campaign to take Tamar and had probably taken a fairly strong leadership role in the fighting that led to the establishment of the Autonomous Province of Rasalhague. It wasn't too far-fetched to imagine she might be close to the fighting now. She was young, after all, maybe thirty-three? He couldn't remember, but at that age the lure of field command might not be resistible for her.

The Sirians would resist. That much about Grise's politics was helpful - there were two reasonably solid regiments in place. So... time. A few months, even if he elected not to reinforce the Concordance. A wry smile crossed Janos lips. Since Grise felt that the Third Sirian Lancers were sufficient aid to give to the rest of the Free Worlds League then the regiment was clearly all the aid that the Concordance would need themselves. It wasn't as if it was taking significant combat power away from Duncan on Stewart.

Alright, so Cecilia Kurita was smart and ambitious: picking a fight with the League and the Confederation was proof enough of the latter. But the first trait would caution her against over ambition. So be patient, wait her out. Let Stewart resolve itself and maybe poke the Confederation to prevent them from sending all their reserves to face her. Given the choice of fighting a regrouped FWLM or an overstretched CCAF, Janos could guess which way she'd jump and that would be the moment to offer a negotiated settlement.

Satisfied, the Captain-General reached for the room's telephone. He had a few minutes to take care of business before Bronwen arrived to take care of an entirely different type of business.

**Linzee House, Mira  
Capellan March, Federated Suns  
1 November 3022**

The gracious architecture of Linzee House had been laid out over seven hundred years before, a resident for one of the wealthy families that had dominated first the Chesterton Trade League and then the Tikonov Grand Union long before the Capellan Confederation had been formed. Under the reign of House Liao, not notorious for tolerating powerful dynasties amongst their subjects, the house had become a museum and after taking the planet during the Second Succession War, it had become a residence of the extended Davion family, on the occasions that some branch of the family might visit Mira.

During the recent fighting, an entire wing had been demolished and only heroic efforts by the staff had prevented fires from spreading into the rest of the house. Hanse Davion had elected to hold this meeting in a room overlooking the damaged wing.

"War is hell, eh?" Alistair Marion observed tartly gesturing through the window. "The point is taken, your highness, but any fool knows that." The Colonel was flanked by two other officers of the same rank: Timothy Senn and Darrel MacHenry of the First and Second Kearny Highlanders, respectively. Together they represented all of the Battlemech regiments deployed by House Liao in order to reclaim Mira for the Confederation, which made their presence under a flag of truce something that would greatly displease Maximilian Liao.

"If you want to consider it stage management, then think of it as a commentary on what happens to a home when you're not there." Hanse Davion had arrived suddenly and unexpectedly on Mira within two weeks of the Highlanders arrival. Fortunately he hadn't been accompanied by more reinforcements - the presence of the Second and Sixth Crucis Lancers, along with the Twenty-Second Avalon Hussars put numbers on the planet fairly even. Nor could the Highlanders call on the next nearest forces for support: the First New Hessen Irregulars were engaged against the Twelfth Deneb Light Cavalry on Mesartim and MacGregor's Armored Scouts were busily engaged in securing Almach.

MacHenry snorted. "Aye and what of it?"

"Well there are two interpretations that could be put forward for it, with regard to your regiments and both are relevant. Firstly, there's Northwind itself. In almost seven hundred years, it's been part of the Capellan Confederation for what - fifty years all told? Lost to the Terran Hegemony, then access for visits and recruitment during the Star League. Reclaimed in the First Succession War and lost in the Second. I'm the symbolism of it is important you, but have any of you actually visited your homeworld?"

"You know that we havenae," Marion told him. "Say your piece and be done with it, Davion."

If Hanse was discomforted by having his planned presentation derailed, he didn't show it to Nelitha or to Ardan, the two of them flanking him at the table. "How would you like to?"

"Like to what?"

"Go back to Northwind. Permanently, if you wish." The prince smiled genially.

The three colonels exchanged looks. "I think it's safe to say that you have our attention, your highness. But you know it's not that simple."

Nelitha leant forwards. "Why can't it be?"

MacHenry gave her a critical look. "Ye may be in civvies, but your still a General o' the Federated Suns, so dinnae make our that you're just his piece o' fluff, Countess. The Northwind Highlanders have pledged their allegiance to House Liao for every one of those seven centuries your Prince mentioned. And for most o' them, we've been at war with ye. So 'tisnae simple at all."

"On the contrary, it's very simple. The Chancellors have been offering you Northwind as a fief for almost two hundred years but they cannot deliver. Even in the unlikely event that the Capellans managed to reconquer the planet, you'd be right on the border with the Combine and Cecilia Kurita would jump at the chance to take Northwind for herself without breaking the current ceasefire."

"The Snakes have been as close to allies of the Confederation as any of the Successor States have, these last hundred years."

Ardan rolled his eyes. "These would be the same Snakes that have landed invasion on three Capellan worlds in the last month? With allies like that..."

Marion blinked. "They've done what?"

"Hadn't you heard?" Hanse asked mildly. "Wolf's Dragoons landed on Keid and New Home on the third of the month. The former world has practically fallen and New Home is only holding out because the Second Fusiliers reinforced it. The Third Confederation Reserve Cavalry have been almost wiped out on Bryant by Kurita's Nightstalker regiments. He spread his hands. "Capellan control of the region is collapsing so there's no real hope of you ever seeing Northwind rejoined to it and without reinforcement your position is not tenable."

"Maybe you should look out of the window again: your vaunted regiments couldnae stop us burning your palace here," MacHenry pointed out belligently.

"Now that the Draconis Combine is committed to fighting in the Confederation, I've been able to pull two more Regimental Combat Teams away from the border with them. The Fourth and Eighth Crucis Lancers will be here in the next two weeks." Hanse allowed that information to sink in: the AFFS would have a five to three advantage in regiments and given losses taken already by the Highlanders in pushing so far, closer to a two to one advantage in numbers over them. Then the prince pulled out a pocket watch and checked it. "And if they're on schedule then three regiments of Illician Lancers jumped into Jonathon system half an hour ago."

Jonathon was the home base of the Second Kearny Highlanders and a major supply base for the current campaign. MacHenry paled and then his cheeks flushed in anger. Marion threw his arm out to stop the hot-tempered officer from jumping to his feet.

"What are you offering?" asked Colonel Senn. He hadn't spoken thus far, content to let the more flamboyant Marion and MacHenry take centre stage.

"Firstly, I'm offering you and your forces - not just the Highlanders but every other Capellan regiment on Mira - free passage out of the system. That's open whether you take me up on the rest of my offer or not."

"Secondly, I'm offering planetary government of the planet of Northwind subject only to the usual federal laws, to the Northwind Highlanders. Essentially, your Clan Elders will collectively hold the same authority as a ducal title for the planet. In return, your regiments have to renounce your existing service with House Liao and agree not to take service against the Federated Suns."

"Thirdly, if you accept both the previous offers, then you have the option of taking contract with the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns to provide garrisons for Northwind and also the planet of Saffel which is only one jump away. The contract will not require you to take part in offensive campaigns and if you prefer not to take on the contract then you will have all the autonomy usually held by regiments in the service of a Federated Suns noble."

"And what about our dependents - on Jonathon and elsewhere?" demanded MacHenry. "Even if we take your offer, they are still in the Confederation and the Chancellor..." He grimaced at the thought and everyone but the First Prince of the Federated Suns did the same as they followed the thought to its natural conclusion: Maximilian Liao would _not_ be happy if four crack regiments defected.

Hanse on the other hand was hiding a smile at the fact that MacHenry, who was the least likely to go along with the idea, seemed to be at least giving it serious thought. "Well, you don't need to necessarily tell him what you have in mind right away. Naturally all your dependents would become Federated Suns citizens, I'd feel obligated to offer you every reasonable assistance in securing their wellbeing."

The three Highlanders exchanged glances again and Senn shrugged almost imperceptibly.

MacHenry turned back towards the other side of the table. "How do we know that you'll nae change the deal once we're in the Federated Suns? They don't call you the Fox, for nothing."

Ardan bristled but Hanse gestured calmingly to him. "They call me that because I'm crafty, not because I'm treacherous or a tyrant," he told MacHenry. "The nobility of the Federated Suns - and that's what the Northwind Highlanders would be becoming - have considerable latitude in how they administer their worlds. I won't say that you couldn't lose Northwind, but even I'd have to prove evidence of major wrongdoing on your parts, and do so to the other grand nobles of the Federated Suns - none of whom would want to set a precedent that could be used against them - before I could take such an action legally."

"No First Prince for the last three hundred years has had to remove a noble by force," Nelitha added firmly. "In the unlikely event Hanse wanted to be the first, he'd be faced with four powerful battlemech regiments: more force than any noble but the March Lords can command."

Marion gave his fiery comrade a quelling look. "We'll need to discuss this with the other Elders before we can give you an answer your highness."

"Of course." Not that Hanse doubted that the bait had been taken. Now it remained to see if they could be reeled in.


	6. Chapter Five

**Guided Halls, Procyon  
Sirian Concordance, Free Worlds League  
3 January 3023**

Three months of fighting had barely touched the planetary capital directly - for the most part Minobu had elected to fight his campaigns outside the urban areas, in order to protect the valuable industries there. It had taken the Fifteenth Legion of Vega a month to sweep across the southern continent of Halbiero for the Sirian Primus, Louis Grise, had held the bulk of his protectors here in the north until reinforcements could arrive and even then the man had insisted they be sent to try to block the advance of the Fifteenth Legion of Vega rather than to liberate Halbiero.

The Second Sirian Lancers had been the most loyal supporters of Louis Grise but it occurred to Minobu to wonder how they felt now, having watched their sister regiments cut apart among the hills of Greene. Either way, they were still grimly holding position around Guided Halls, like samurai intending to die rather than abandon their worthless lord.

Minobu could respect their resolve, but he wasn't going to spare them the consequences of that decision. "Vega-_roku_, attack," he ordered sharply. Within moments he saw elements of the named force move over the ridgeline towards the city walls. All were fast – _Jenner_ and _Spider_ light battlemechs mixed with Saracen and Scimitar hovertanks. A handful of infantry transports were among the group, the Maxims firing missiles to cover the advance and try to disguise their actual role.

The new Legion of Vega had been divided into five groups by Minobu before departure from Vega. As a body they were an unmanageable number: the remnants of over a dozen different regiments and with very little in the way of leadership after Cecilia's decision to allow the junior officers to expunge their shame in the traditional fashion. Even the mechwarriors of noble blood or who owned their own battlemechs had been dispossessed and reduced in rank to _Shujin_, permitted to pilot the 'Mechs assigned to them only at the pleasure of the Coordinator.

The number five was symbolic in the culture of the Combine, thus Minobu's choice of that many sub-units. In order to avoid offense to the distant Second Legion of Vega, he had designated his own group as Vega-_ichi_ or One and then numbered the other groups Three to Six. While the new groups were a more reasonable size, they had still lacked officers. To Minobu's disappointment but not surprise, very few officers in other battlemech regiments had wished to transfer to the Legion of Vega even for a promotion and the exceptions were not men he would have chosen.

The solution was what had forced the current combined arms organisation of the Legion upon him, rather than any deep attachment to the concept. While Mechwarriors did not desire the disgrace of being associated with the Legion of Vega, there were many infantrymen and tank crews far more pragmatic in their promotion prospects. As a result, there had been no alternative than to hand command positions even as junior as _Chu-i_ to them and mix the battlemechs into tank lances and infantry platoons.

Less chastened mechwarriors would probably have revolted and Minobu had prudently ensured that the majority of his new _Chu-i_ were tough former non-commissioned officers: _Gunsho_ or higher that were unlikely to be intimidated by mechwarriors' lofty social status. The Coordinator's decision that even the junior ranks should be rendered in Japanese had been received gratefully by the enlisted soldiers, who in general felt it granted them a little more respect than that which had previously been granted them by the High Command. As such, Minobu had found it fairly easy to select men and women firmly or even fanatically devoted to Cecilia and not given to sympathy for the Ronin.

Like most surviving cities this deep into the Inner Sphere, Guided Halls was surrounded by high walls and those walls were capped by turrets. The latter opened fire on Vega-_roku_ as they approached but it wasn't until the ranges dropped below four hundred metres that they had any realistic chance of scoring a hit and even then not all that many shots were hitting home.

Of course, the walls were also a hundred metres high – a deliberate decision to prevent jump infantry from scaling them since the best jump pack known couldn't manage that much vertical distance. That left a considerable dead space at the foot of the wall that had to be covered by enfilading fire from strongpoints – not enough to make them save but enough to make them survivable – at least that was Minobu's hope.

"Vega-_san_, Vega-_go_. Carry out your mission!" Those two forces were not visible, but like the unit under Minobu's eyes, they mixed thirty battlemechs with approximately twice as many tanks and a substantial complement of infantry. Their mission was to now launch an attack upon the other side of the city, convincing the defenders that Vega-_roku_ was a diversionary attack.

Zooming in with the telescopic function on his sensors, he could see hatches opening on the Maxims. Dozens of infantry, encumbered with heavy jump packs, climbed out onto the hulls, spacing themselves carefully as one after the other the hover transports matched speeds with the battlemechs around them. Fire flared as the jump packs flared, throwing soldiers across the short distances and onto moving Battlemechs. It was dangerous: miss and you might be crushed underfoot or – slower but almost as certainly lethal – left behind on foot and dependent on your jump pack to escape from the gun turrets.

Most of them made it, using magnets intended for swarm attacks to attach themselves to the light 'Mechs in threes and fours, careful to place themselves upon the upper front portions. The exceptions... Minobu would find out their names later, to advise the Coordinator and their families that the former Ronin had redeemed themselves.

However, there was no time. At any moment one of the defenders might notice the infantry and guess what was intended. Each battlemech fired its own jumpjets, propelling them forwards but also upwards, until their heads almost rose above the level of the walls. A _Jenner_ or _Spider_ could easily jump over the wall, but what then? They would be obvious and easy targets for the wall guns and for the forces within. Infantry, however, were like _nezumi_ (the Legion of Vega's banner showed just such a rat) and could fight in narrow corners and concealment that a battlemech could not exploit.

Almost an entire company of jump infantry leapt _from_ airborne battlemechs, to land on or behind the great city wall. A few missed. Half a squad were wiped out when the _Jenner_ they were board jumped a little too high and a powerful autocannon ripped through the light Battlemech's thin armour and converted the reactor to the super-hot core of an expanding globe of plasma. Vega-_roku_ sped onwards, each symbolically firing their weapons into the massive gates.

And then they less than symbolically made the best speed that they could back towards the hills around the city, with every short range missile launcher firing as rapidly as it could. It took something less than a minute for most of them to empty their magazines, something that in a true battle situation would leave them highly vulnerable if the Sirian Lancers ventured out of the defenses to pursue.

They would be fools to do so, because the missiles were smoke warheads and within moments the field was concealed by a haze of manmade fog that blinded everyone and meant that targeting anything would be an exercise in futility.

Unless of course the target wasn't moving. Like the gates.

Minobu started walking his _Cyclops_, the former property of the late _Tai-Sho_ Shazli of the Sixth Benjamin Regulars. The Coordinator had done him the honour of signing ownership over to him before his departure, making him the one member of the Fifteenth Legion of Vega who owned his own BattleMech. "Vega-_ichi_, move out."

Tanks, 'Mechs and infantry carriers started moving forwards into view of the city. Most of them, Minobu included, formed columns to either side of the axis of the gates, but twelve tanks did not. They were the only Schrek PPC Carriers that the Fifteenth Legion had and to a considerable degree the entire smokescreen was simply so that they could get to an optimal firing range without taking fire. That was no excuse to delay however and the eighty-five ton armoured vehicles moved flat out at over fifty kilometers an hour, their routes and landmarks spelling out in explicit detail where they were supposed to place themselves.

A little under two hundred metres from the gates, the lead tank slewed sideways and fired all three PPCs as it moved aside. The second tank turned in the other direction but likewise kept its turret pointed at the gates. In turn, tank after tank hammered shots into the gates as the smoke slowly cleared.

Missiles, lasers and cannon fire tore into the tanks, smashing into armour and wrecking tracks. One unlucky Schrek took a freak hit to the reactor and vaporised itself and its crew in an instant. But the gates were down and the streets behind them were contested by scores of DCMS infantry with handheld SRM launchers loaded with inferno warheads.

At the head of twenty-seven heavy and medium battlemechs, _Tai-sa_ Minobu Tetushara stormed into the city, dozens of tanks following them and Vega-_roku_ moving turning back to join in the battle now that an opening had been made for them.

**ComStar First Circuit Compound  
Hilton Head Island, North America, Terra  
19 January 3022**

"Procyon has fallen to the Draconis Combine," Myndo Waterly announced to the rest of the First Circuit. "And by pulling the First Sirian Lancers there to join the defenses, Primus –" She drew out the title, glancing at Tiepolo and seeing his irritation at the use of the title that ComStar and the Sirian Concordance shared for their chief executive. "Grise has fatally compromised the defenses of Pollux. DCMS units already there are likely to overrun the planet by this time next month. Graham IV may last a little longer, but unless the Captain-General sends more help, it will also fall."

"And will he?" Tiepolo asked.

Waterly shook her head. "It seems very unlikely. If anything, he seems to be moving supplies towards Zion and Ohrenson Provinces."

The addition of the Draconis Combine to the heady brawls taking place between the other four Successor States in the area rimwards of Terra had led to some optimistic predictions that the Succession Wars might be heating up again. Waterly thought that those who had uttered those expectations should have the decency to cease their idiocy but no doubt their words would be conveniently forgotten now that Marik and Steiner had patched up a ceasefire after the latter's withdrawal from Stewart.

"Can he afford to ignore such an invasion?" asked Tejh. Precentor Sian looked worn down – interactions with Chancellor Liao had grown increasingly difficult as the woes of the Confederation multiplied.

"I wouldn't have thought so," Waterly admitted. "However, it's possible he will seek an accommodation now and try to salvage his reputation elsewhere. Against a periphery state, or more probably against the Capellans. Raiding out of Oriente and Andurien is certainly on an upswing."

Tiepolo nodded thoughtfully. "Do you believe that Coordinator Kurita would amenable to such an offer?"

"Surely Precentor Dieron would be better informed as to that?" Waterly asked pointedly. She knew that Precentor Emilio Rachan hadn't managed to even present his credentials since his appointment, since the Coordinator was apparently busy with an erratic tour of her domain, settling the aftershocks of the Altair business. Rachan being recalled to this meeting hadn't helped either.

It was plain to see that the verbal jab had struck home but the Primus kept his calm. "And I will ask his opinion in a moment, but for now I want yours."

"Cecilia Kurita does not wage war for the sake of fighting. She always does so with a purpose. If she has accomplished her purpose then she will agree to end the conflict."

"But what is her purpose?"

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Rachan. He pointed at the holographic display floating above them. "She seeks to surround us. And when she has done that..." The man closed his hands in a soft clap. "We will be caught between the Dragon's jaws."

That brought silence to the rest of the First Circuit. It was almost two and a half centuries since Jerome Blake had used mercenaries to secure control of Terra for ComStar and since that day no one had dared threaten military force against the organisation.

"The Coordinator would be insane to try it," Vandel Huthrin protested. "The Combine would be under complete Interdict within twenty-four hours of her jumpships entering the solar system. With Charles Marik as an example..."

Rachan shook his head. "And if she uses pirate jump points, she could have her dropships on the ground within those same twenty-four hours. When you cite Charles Marik, please remember that the Free Worlds League took serious reverses but was fully intact and viable as a state after almost two years of Interdiction. The notion that it would take the DCMS even two _months_ to secure control of Terra is a joke!"

"The Com-Guards..."

"The Com-Guards have no experience and no real numbers," Rachan shot back. "Our only hope, if you can call it that, would be that the other Successor States would launch their own invasions to deny the Combine control of Terra. Does any of you imagine that ComStar could survive all five of them landing regiments here?"

"That is _enough_." Julian Tiepolo stepped forwards to silence the speculation. "The scenario that you envisage will not be allowed to take place." Despite himself he was impressed: Cecilia Kurita had apparently managed to inflict a significant degree of paranoia upon Rachan without even meeting the man. Still, paranoia was not an unreasonable trait for a Precentor to have in the Draconis Combine.

He looked around the First Circuit and none seemed ready to speak out. Good. "Precentor ROM's analysts assure me that the supplies available to the DCMS forces in the Free Worlds League and Capellan Confederation are not significantly greater than those used by the Lyran Commonwealth for their recent invasion of the Free Worlds League. Therefore it seems unlikely that the Kurita advance will be much greater."

"It would be preferable," the Primus added, "If Katrina Steiner and Hanse Davion were made to understand that their nobles would look poorly upon any threat that the Draconis Combine might pose to their worlds near Terra. While Precentors Tharkad and New Avalon take care of that, Precentors Atreus and Dieron would be well advised to encourage factionalism within the Draconis Combine and the Free Worlds League. Rulers beset by internal strife will often seek foreign threats to unify their realms against, something that would reduce the chances of a negotiated peace between the two states."

Tejh shuffled his feet slightly, almost like a child afraid to raise his hand in class.

"Do you have a recommendation, Precentor Sian?"

The man raised one finger in illustration that he spoke in query. "It seems likely that should the Capellan Confederation come under attack from not only House Davion and House Kurita but also House Marik then Chancellor Liao may take... extreme measures. Should I attempt to deter him from this?"

Tiepolo shook his head. "No Precentor. If Maximilian Liao wishes to escalate the conflict then by all means, encourage him."

**St Marinus House, Zaniah III  
Isle of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth  
13 February 3023**

While the Draconis Combine was officially at peace with the Lyrans, for the first time since 2865, that did not make samurai particularly welcome across the border. Akira's family name didn't help very much in that respect: the customs official who checked his papers when he arrived across the border had stared wide-eyed at him as if an entire Sword of Light regiment were about to march through the spaceport arrivals lounge behind him.

Realising that his uniform would draw attention, Akira had elected to follow the advice of Uncle Chandrasekhar and obtain local clothes. To his embarrassment he had been denied service at the first two shops he had visited although at least he could blame Lyran bigotry rather than any gaffe on his part for the events. Leaving his uniform jacket in his hotel room and replacing his boots with sandals made him less identifiable as a foreign military officer and allowed him to shop in peace however.

The baking red-yellow deserts of Zaniah were another experience from the thriving commercial districts he'd encountered around spaceports on his slow progress across the Isle of Skye. The heat inside the aircar that he'd hired was brutal - it made the cockpit of his _Dragon_ feel like a mild spring day, almost the way he'd felt the day years before when his father had allowed him to pilot the family _Warhammer_ and he'd made the mistake of alpha-striking. Fortunately the training rounds in the magazines hadn't cooked off but he'd felt an utter fool when the reactor shutdown on him.

The monastery he sought was on the maps, dug into a towering mesa hundreds of miles from Zaniah's populated regions to the north and south of the desert belts that dominated the dry planet. What wasn't on the map was anything about the internal layout or even where the entrance was. Akira had envisaged arriving with sufficient reserve of fuel for the aircar to search out a landing site from the air but he hadn't anticipated the difficulties imposed by the desert winds and by a detour caused by mistaking a landmark. His best guess was that he had enough of a reserve, including the jerrycan in the vehicle's small storage space, for a single flyby before he had to land.

However, he was still a kilometer away from it when his radio started to chirp. Leaving one on the controls, Akira flipped on the loudspeaker.

"-ntified aircar, you are entering private airspace," a calm voice warned. "I repeat, this is private airspace. Please bear off."

"St Marinus House, this is the approaching aircar," Akira replied on the same frequency. "I request permission to land."

There was a short pause and then: "Approaching aircar, are you declaring an emergency?"

"Negative, St Marinus House, you are my destination."

Another voice took over the conversation. "This is Brother Giles, I am the Abbot of St Marinus House. We aren't expecting any deliveries, may I ask your business?"

Akira had considered several different approaches, but the most direct one seemed best here. "I'm here to speak with Morgan Kell."

"Whoever you are," and the Abbot's voice took a harsher note, "St Marinus House exists to give Mechwarriors who desire it seclusion from the outside universe. Visitors, much less the media, are not part of that."

"With respect, Abbot Giles, I am not from the media. May I at least land and explain myself?"

The pause now was longer and then the first voice took over. "Aircar, if you proceed to your left around the monastery you'll see our entrance hall. Brother Giles will meet you there."

Obediently Akira amended his direction of travel and sure enough he soon spotted an arched opening in the blood red stone of the mesa, easily large enough that a battlemech could have marched inside. Under minimal thrust the aircar easily slipped through and Akira set it down at the foot of stairs that led deeper into the monastery, although he could see that there was space beyond it that he could continue through, probably to whatever hanger or garage served to house the vehicles belonging to St Marinus House.

Akira had barely set foot outside of the aircar, enjoying the much cooler air in the shade, when a balding middle-aged monk started to descend the stairs towards him. Although he was carrying more weight than would be customary in a serving soldier, Akira could see the telltale set of shoulders that had once been accustomed to the weight of a neurohelmet. Then again, given the stated purpose of the order, it would not be strange to find many former mechwarriors here.

The abbot's eyes narrowed as he saw Akira's daisho and then relaxed as the young mechwarrior pointedly left them across the seat of the aircar rather than carrying them with him. "Somehow I doubt that you are here to enter our community."

"Respectfully, Abbot Giles, there are monasteries in my home nation that I would look to first if I sought spiritual guidance." He shook his head. "I am here for exactly the reason I stated earlier: to speak to Colonel Morgan Kell."

The abbot crossed his arms firmly. "And why should I allow this? As Abbot here I am responsible for Morgan's wellbeing and there is only one likely topic of conversation that would bring you here."

Akira nodded in affirmation. "Tamar."

"It was after his duel there, that Morgan chose to retreat here." Giles shook his head. "That's not..."

"Sir." Akira looked the man in the eye, recognising some of the features as those common to House Steiner. "I am the son of Yorinaga Kurita. And I have come here in peace."

"...I'll tell Morgan you are here," the older man agreed after a long moment of thought. "What happens then is up to him. If you need food, water or fuel for your return journey we will provide for you."

**McAllister Aerospace Academy, Rasalhague  
Rasalhague Autonomous Prefecture, Draconis Combine  
14 February 3023**

The anonymous black limousine might have looked out of place among the construction vehicles working on the campus, but most of the workers were used to occasional visits by officials and nobles waking a firsthand look at progress - or at least a photo-opportunity. As the Academy was an important project said to have patrons high in the DCMS, there was no shortage of people wanting to be associated with it.

Under this cover nobody noticed the limousine exit the site from one of the side entrances without pausing for anyone to take photographs. Hastening down a back road, the car turned off into a private driveway that led into a valley invisible from the campus. Hidden away here was a well maintained cabin that had been owned by House Kurita for centuries.

Stepping out of the car, Cecilia didn't look very much like her public image. Usually she wore military uniforms or elaborate kimonos befitting her stature. Between wearing a casual outfit and a change of her hairstyle, she thought she could probably fool at least a casual observer which was all that she was really concerned about for now.

She crossed the distance from the limousine to the front door, aware that she was probably being targeted by at least one weapon. Looking at the door, she refrained from knocking. "You know who I am and you know why I'm here. Are you going to make this difficult?"

After a moment the door swung open, although with the lights off and the bright sun outside, Cecilia couldn't see the interior well. She stepped in cautiously and was ambushed immediately as someone ploughed into her just below the ribs, knocking her to the floor.

"_Kaasan_!"

"Wow, you've gone and grown again," Cecilia observed, trying not vent over the fact she really didn't to get hit below the ribs right now. She wrapped her arms around Siriwan's shoulder and looked up at Tomoe, who was looking fairly intimidating with a ballistic vest strapped on over an apron and a pump-action shotgun aimed safely away from anyone. "You look taller too."

"That's because you're on the floor," the Pillarine mechwarrior observed. "I thought you'd be here sooner. It's been months."

"I know, I'm so-"

Siriwan squeezed her belly in surprise. "_Kaasan_ you're fat! You need to exercise!"

"Ah... Siri'... Has Tomoe told you about where babies come from?"

"Oh no." Tomoe smiled sweetly, which was rather inconsistent with her appearance. "I wouldn't presume to take that joy away from you, Cecilia-chan."

The Coordinator gave the other woman a pained look and then sat up, pulling Siriwan into her lap. "Siriwan, the reason that I'm a little... larger... than I used to be is that you're going to have a little sister... or maybe a brother... in a few months and they're inside me right now."

Siriwan considered this and then asked what seemed like the logical question: "Did you eat them?"

Several possible answers crossed Cecilia's mind, some of them definitely not ones that she wanted to share with her eight year old daughter. "No dear. Babies grow inside their mother. When your brother or sister is ready to be born they'll come out just like you did."

"Ooh! When will that happen? Can I watch?"

"Hmm..." Cecilia gave Tomoe a look. She wasn't sure eight was old enough for that and from the way that Tomoe shook her head slightly, Siriwan's nanny didn't think so either. "Well perhaps. We shall have to see if we're all on the same planet when the time comes. I don't know exactly when the little one will come out, after all."

"Aww!" Siriwan pouted.

"In any event, I expect I'll be staying on Luthien for a while now. Have you enjoyed your time here on Rasalhague?"

"Un!" the little girl said, holding onto her. "It's the best place ever. Did you know they're going to teach people to fly at the big school down over the hills? Tomoe-neechan said I could go there when I was older."

"If you still want to," the woman said in clarification. "They haven't even finished building it yet, after all." She offered a hand to Cecilia, to help her up. Although Cecilia didn't feel that she'd become awkward, she wasn't so proud as to refuse the assistance, lifting Siriwan up so that the three of them ended up shoulder to shoulder with Siriwan's feet dangling, supported by her mother's and then Tomoe's arms.

"Can't we all stay here?" the girl asked. "It's nice. I've been learning more Swedenese so I can talk to the other children."

"Not now, no." Cecilia said, looking at the house. It looked nice and she could feel the temptation to stay. But she could also imagine how swiftly they would fall into the power of the Warlord of Rasalhague if they remained here. It would not be long, days at most, before Grieg Samsonov learned that Siriwan had been hidden here now that Cecilia had come here to collect her. She'd just had a reminder, if one was needed, of how dangerous the Warlords could be towards her. "But as Tomoe says, you can come back here in a few years if you'd like."

"Aw..."

Cecilia kissed Siriwan's forehead. "I'm glad you've had a good holiday here, but we do need to go back to Luthien, so you can see Constance and Jasmine again."

"Couldn't they come here?"

"Maybe next time." Cecilia put her daughter down. "Why don't you go pack. The dropship leaves tonight."

The girl pouted a little more and then ran off to comply, although no doubt she would forget to pack about half her things.

Once she was out of sight, Cecilia leant over and kissed Tomoe on the lips. "Thank you."

"For keeping her alive?"

"And for keeping yourself alive."

They kissed again and then reluctantly released each other from the embrace. "Well I only did it for you," Tomoe told her. "And for payment in the coin of the realm, of course."

"Given the date? I have a huge box of chocolates in the car."

"That'll do as a down payment."

"Down payment?" Cecilia raised her eyebrows. "What exactly are you trying to extort out of me?"

Glancing at the stairs to ensure that Siriwan wasn't in proximity, Tomoe leant down to whisper into the ear of her mistress. Cecilia's cheeks pinked slightly as she listened to the proposition and her own eyes also flickered in the direction that had departed in.

"What an interesting suggestion," she managed to admit after a moment. "We might have to wait a couple of months though. I'm not feeling to flexible right now."

There was the sound of feet at the head of the stairs and Siriwan poked her head around the banister. "_Kaasan_, has the baby come out yet?"

"Not yet, no."

Cecilia gave Tomoe an artfully needful look and the other woman smirked. "She'll be asking you that for weeks," she predicted cheerfully.

"Is Tomoe-_neechan_ going to have a baby as well? That way I could have a brother and a sister?"

Tomoe cleared her throat. "Are you packed already?"

The feet scampered away again, leaving the two women to rest their foreheads against each other and giggle like schoolgirls.

**St Marinus House, Zaniah III  
Isle of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth  
14 February 3023**

The Morgan Kell that Akira had seen on holodisks and intelligence reports was not quite the same man that walked down into the cave the next morning. Akira had dozed in the driver's seat but he woke at the first sound of feet on the stairs.

In the recordings, Kell had been a handsome, mustachioed officer with a wary look of cunning that had spelled trouble for the Arm of the Dragon many times during the battles around and on Tamar. Although it had been little more than two years ago, in that time grey hairs had appeared in his long hair and his beard was similarly marked. Still muscular, he was leaner than Akira had expected, his sun burned darkly by Zaniah's brutal sun.

"Why have you come here?" Kell asked in a rasping voice.

Akira stood and bowed. The words he'd rehearsed for this moment escaped him and rather than grope for them he resorted to simplicity. "Colonel Kell, I have come to request the return of my father's swords."

"His swords?" For a brief moment Akira was afraid that despite all expectations Kell might not have the swords, having discarded or destroyed them for some reason, but then the mercenary's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want them?"

"The Coordinator has decreed that he may not greet the ancestors without them."

Kell gave Akira a confused look that shifted to disgust. "You want the swords so that your father can use them to _kill himself_. What sort of son are you?"

"The sort who wants his father to have peace. Isn't that what you came here for?"

"That's different. What happened on Tamar... you wouldn't understand."

"Well maybe you don't understand my father!" Akira felt his temper getting away from him. Rather than fighting it, he tried to channel it, the way his teachers had taught him. "For him, being a mechwarrior was everything. Facing the enemies of the Dragon in battle was what he lived for. Whatever happened on Tamar - whatever you did - tore the heart out of him, _Tai-sa_ Kell."

Kell shook his head. "That's no reason for him to die."

"Right now he isn't alive either! I don't want my father to die - nor does the Coordinator - but he isn't living now. He's holed up somewhere not so very different from here gnawing over what happened. If he has his swords back then yes, maybe he will commit _seppuku_. And if he does at least he'll have that part of his life back: dying as a samurai. And if he doesn't..."

"Given that last time I met your father he was trying to kill my brother and destroy my regiment, has it occurred to you that I might not want him returned to his former self."

Akira laughed bitterly. "It seems, Colonel Kell, that you don't know what you want: first you criticise me for giving him the opportunity to end his life if he chooses to. And then you state that you'd rather he never recovered. It sounds almost as if you want him to remain on Echo, trapped between his honour and his fears."

"Kurita-_san_, the only demons that one finds in a place like this, or your father's refuge, are those that you carry with you." Morgan gestured for silence when Akira would have protested. "You are correct that I am conflicted as to your father... If he returns to the battlefield then I will have to as well and I don't want to kill your father or to die myself." He stared at Akira. "I will not give you the swords. What will you do now? Try to take them?"

The young samurai shook his head. "No, Colonel Kell. While you remain here and in retirement then you are safe from me. I will return to the Combine. There I will become everything that you fear in my father, until you are drawn out of this place to meet me rather see me face the Kell Hounds and your brother."

For an instant Kell's eyes blazed with the fire that Akira had expected to see in such a mechwarrior. "You'll leave my people _alone_!"

"Or what? You'll destroy me yourself?" Akira shook his head. "You know that when that happens, my father will no longer petition Lord Kurita for permission to end himself but to pursue vendetta against you. This permission would be granted and thus..."

"You don't need to do this. It doesn't have to be this way."

"It already is that way. You're right, I don't understand what happened on Tamar. But I do know it affects people other than the two of you. It's destroyed your Kell Hounds and it's destroyed my family. If you give me the swords then one of two things happens: either my father kills himself or one of you kills the other one. They might not be the best of options but they're the ones you've left us with and at least either way my father will have closure."

"Stop," Kell told him firmly. He smiled, apparently despite himself, and it was a surprisingly charming smile, Akira had to admit. "You're trying to snowball me. It's a nice try, but it won't work."

"Colonel, I..."

"No. You are not the sort of person that would prey upon my people, Kurita-_san_... Excuse me, what rank do you hold?"

"I hold the rank of _Tai-i_ in the Second Sword of Light."

"Your father's regiment. You're very young to have a place in the Sword of Light, _Tai-i_. You must be an excellent mechwarrior."

Akira shrugged modestly. "I have been fortunate in some respects. Colonel Kell, is there any way that I can persuade you to change your mind?"

Kell paused and examined the young man in front of him. "I'm half-tempted to tell you to sign on with the Kell Hounds. Nine years ago you're exactly the sort of young hotshot I'd have recruited in an instant."

"That..." Akira considered. "That... might be feasible." Inwardly he winced. A Kurita serving as a mercenary? He'd be lucky just to get transferred to the Legion of Vega when he returned to the Combine. Mind you, the look on Morgan Kell's face at the idea was almost worth it.

**Sian, Sian Commonality  
Capellan Confederation  
3 March 3023**

Twelve months could make a considerable difference to the atmosphere of the Celestial Palace, Candace mused as she sat at a conference table in one of the rooms adjacent to the throne room. When things went well, the nobility flocked towards the throne, to take advantage of the Chancellor's good humour. At other times...

The court was distinctly underpopulated at the moment. Candace was just back from St Ives and she'd be leaving as soon as she could find an excuse. It might leave Romano with more access to their father, but right now it also left her more exposed to his anger and that was a trade-off that Candace was more than willing to make.

She'd have expended Tormano similarly, if with slightly more regret, but that wasn't an option any more. Her father had pronounced an Edict of Death against the mechwarrior responsible, but that hadn't stopped the Duchess of Chesterton from hanging a medal around the man's neck. Perhaps more prudently, she understood that Hanse had also transferred the young Captain to a post in the Draconis March. Normally that would put Justin Allard out of the Maskirova's reach but for this, extraordinary expense and effort would be merited. Candace hoped that it would also be rewarded with success.

At the head of the table, Maximilian Liao remained the room's dominating presence but there was a rigidity to his shoulders that betrayed a certain defensiveness. While Candace, as heir, held the seat to his right hand, this placed her opposite her step-mother Elizabeth who was only two years her elder. Much as the Chancellor's daughter wished she could blame her father for falling prey to a pretty face, the years of their marriage had shown that his second wife had a genuine flair for politics which merited her seat at today's Prefectorate meeting as the representative of Capella.

The junior Prefect, now representing Tikonov with the loss of Waldemar Teng four years ago, Romano sat to Candace's right and opposite her was the Prefect of Chesterton. Victor Hargreaves was looking distinctly uneasy, which the apparently optimistic Romano might have drawn a lesson from. Neither of their Prefectures was in particularly pleasant straits at the moment. At the foot of the table the last Prefect, Chandra Ling looked as if she had nothing more pressing on her mind than wondering what flavor of cookies to feed to her grandchildren. Although the head of the Maskirova was as likely to bake children into cookies if she thought it would obtain results.

"I believe," the Chancellor declared, "That we must recognise that the Chesterton offensive has suffered a reversal of fortunes." It was understood that he was not a matter of the Prefectorate being aware of the problems but of what they would allow to be announced.

Romano shook her head. "Father, is it really necessary to allow such information to circulate?"

"I deem it so," he told her quellingly and Candace's sister subsided. "Duke Hargreaves, how is it that you can show your face here after letting my son die fighting in the defense of your homeworld?"

The Duke inclined his head solemnly. "Celestial Wonder, I am here at your command. No shame could compare to that I would feel had I the temerity to deny you."

"Very well then. Report to me on the status of the military forces with your Commonality."

"Following the defection of the Northwind Highlanders and the loss of Almach in January, the First Hew Hessen Irregulars have returned to their homeworld in the Tikonov Commonality. Colonel Baxter of McCarron's Armored Cavalry has also had to consolidate his own forces deployed into the Commonality into two regiments, leaving the total available forces as eight regiments and one Warrior House battalion. Of these, the Second New Hessen Irregulars are pacifying Holloran V and House LuSann is securing Algot, which is serving as my command post. Hamilton's Highlanders and the Third Chesterton Voltigeurs are also on Algot, regrouping from their unsuccessful assault upon New Aragon."

"At this time, two task forces are in the field. On Demeter, two Chesterton Voltigeur regiments and McGregor's Armored Scouts are spearheading a force resisting the attack by four Regimental Combat Teams of House Davion's Crucis Lancers. A similar force is still fighting on Valexa, built around two regiments of McCarron's Armored Cavalry. I understand that the remainder of the Chesterton Reserves are engaged in fighting House Kurita's forces but Colonel Baxter is requesting that the Fourth Regiment of McCarron's forces be permitted to travel from Menke to reinforce him."

Candace leant forwards. "With all due respect to Duke Hargreaves and to Colonel Baxter, the efforts to convince Duke Hasek-Davion to refrain from acting against us is reaching its limit. If the Chancellor elects to dispatch Leo's Demons to assist the rest of McCarron's Armored Cavalry, this will seriously weaken the defenses of the Sian Commonality."

"We cannot be strong everywhere, sister," Romano pointed out cattily. "Or do you want the Chesterton Commonality to fall for a second time?"

From the look on Hargreave's face, he'd have accepted that quite calmly. He'd been trapped in the venture by his hereditary titles rather than any unrealistic expectations of success.

"That may not be avertable in any case, Romano. Perhaps you should concern yourself with seeing that your own Commonality is secured." Candace saw her jibe hit home: Romano hadn't left Sian since her election as Prefect. In the meantime three worlds had been lost to the Draconis Combine in attacks spearheaded by the Wolf Dragoons. Candace would have much preferred to be there herself to face the Dragoons: there was a score to settle there on her part, even if the Harold Jones, the Colonel who had humiliated her a decade before, had been dead almost four years before.

The Chancellor frowned at the conflict between his daughters but it was Elizabeth Liao who leant forwards to chastise them. "The discussions of the Prefectorate can be carried out with due decorum, I hope?"

Maximilian Liao waited a long moment as the three woman glared at each other and then turned to Ling. "What of House Marik? Can forces be drawn from the border with the Free Worlds League to address this threat?"

The Director shook her head sadly. "I regret, Celestial Wisdom, that House Marik appears to be gathering forces for a fresh offensive and against all expectations it would appear that we are to be the Captain-General's targets rather than the Sirian worlds that have been taken by Cecilia Kurita. It is likely that he will employ his nephew, Duncan Marik, as a field commander as he did against the LCAF last year."

"Very well." The Chancellor laid his hands upon the table. "Duke Hargreaves, advise Colonel Baxter that his remaining regiment will be routed to his position on Valexa with all dispatch." He glanced at Candace. "You need not concern yourself with Duke Hasek-Davion. A certain project that was intended to mark the destruction of Hanse Davion has become no longer feasible but its fruits will serve admirably to neutralise his troublesome march lord for us."

Candace bit her lip lightly, frustrated that the menace posed from New Syrtis was so cavalierly dismissed by her father but also intrigued by his mentioned project. Whatever it was, her father's tone was that he usually reserved for such masterstrokes as his cultivation of Anton Marik, that had sparked a destructive civil war within the Free Worlds and largely negated them as a major menace for several years.

"Romano," Maximilian continued. "Last year you asked permission to lead my soldiers into battle. I will now grant you your wish. You may take the third battalion from Hurloc's Hussars from Kaifeng and a further battalion from the Prefectorate Guards here on Sian to assist you in driving back the Combine's mercenaries."

Even Romano seemed intimidated by the thought that she would receive only two more battalions to add to the battle against the vaunted Dragoons but with elements of no less than eight regiments already engaged, the numbers were not as unreasonable as they sounded at first. The younger daughter of the Chancellor bowed her head submissively. "Of course, father."

"And Marik?" Ling enquired politely.

"Marik rules a house divided against itself," Liao replied, tacitly ignoring the hatred between his own daughters. "Given reason, even one of his sons has turned against him. I believe that poor Janos believes that Duncan Marik will follow the same path of rebellion as Anton did." He stroked his mustache. "What sort of a neighbour would I be not to give him what he wants?"

**Imperial City, Luthien  
Pesht District, Draconis Combine  
3 April 3023**

"I live to serve," the three men prostrated before the Dragon Throne repeated, as they had for almost an hour. Behind them, respectful ranks of the military and civil elite of the Draconis Combine stood as witness to the event. Towards the rear of the assemblage, Duggan Marik watched as well, although he was wrestling with the notion that this feat of endurance was considered a moment of ascendance for citizens of the Combine rather than the humiliation it would have been for someone to be on their knees in front of the Captain-General's throne, endlessly protesting their devotion.

These are truly an alien people, he realised.

The elaborately robed woman on the throne had not said a word to the three men in front of her, although to Duggan's understanding at least two of them were considered to be especial protégés of hers. Then again, the Coordinator was something of an enigma and other than his official reception - which had been so stylised he wasn't sure of much about it other than that it hadn't been a party - he had yet to actually meet with her, instead negotiating with various ministers.

Somewhat to his relief, one of the three officers seemed to be flagging, his voice growing hoarse. To his disappointment however, although that one (_Tai-sho_ Satterthwaite, Duggan gathered) was reduced to croaking, the refrain continued until all three were inaudible, which wasn't for another half an hour. Until that afternoon, Duggan wouldn't have thought that anything could be more atonal than the traditional Japanese music that he'd been exposed to visiting one of the high nobles.

At some signal, which Duggan did not see or at least did not recognise, even the three broken voices fell silent and Cecilia Kurita finally stood as the three officers sat up in _seiza_. A servant brought her metal shield, upon which lay three medals, each upon a blue and black ribbon. "There is no greater honour than this," she announced. "To have extended the rule of the Dragon is the highest of ambitions and each of you has accomplished this, bringing the planets of Bryant, Procyon and the Sirius system into the Draconis Combine. In recognition of this, each of you is hereby admitted to the select company of the Order of the Dragon."

Ceremoniously she faced each man in turn, hanging a medal around each neck, before returning to the shield and plucking two small green badges from it. She returned to the men and exchanged these for the rank pins on the collars of the towering black man on the left and the grizzled veteran kneeling on the right. "_Tai-sa_ McGavin and _Tai-sa_ Tetsuhara are further promoted to the rank of _Sho-sho_ that they may justly lead greater forces in the future."

Fortunately for Duggan's patience, the ceremony ended there with a wave of applause and the other attendees began to cluster around the men being honoured. Someone blocked his line to the throne and when he looked again the Coordinator was gone.

"Okay, well other than hearing three guys talk themselves hoarse, this is a wash," he grumbled to his aide. "Let's go back to our rooms and see if anyone will actually make a decision over dinner."

His aide gave him a pained look and then flicked his eyes to look behind Duggan, who turned to see the Coordinator standing behind him. "No, please go on," she said encouragingly. "I'm fascinated by your opinion of our traditions."

Say what you would about Duggan Marik (many did), he was an accomplished politician with years of experience in the Free Worlds League Parliament. "It was an interesting experience. I've never seen anything quite like it."

"The alternative, of course, is the sort of acceptance speeches that are common among honorees in other states." Cecilia smiled pleasantly. "Less monotonous, perhaps, than our own customs."

"I can think of some exceptions to that," Duggan admitted. Relatively few soldiers were great speakers and given the intertwining military and political ambitions common in the Free Worlds League many of them were unfortunately unaware of their lack.

She gestured towards the large door of the throne room. "While we aren't the centre of attention, why don't we step out and have a quiet chat about your business here on Luthien."

Duggan enthusiastically followed her out of the room and through a series of short passages into a small Japanese garden surrounded on all four sides by the wooden veranda that he associated with Japanese architecture. His enthusiasm waned slightly as he had hoped for a slightly more intimate setting. The Coordinator was a beautiful woman despite having only recently given birth to twins and while he'd be a fool to expect too much from respectable Draconian lady, he was confident that if given the chance he could apply some charm to overcome his earlier gaffe.

"My officials tell me that you've come here to offer peace," Cecilia said, walking briskly around the edge of the garden. "Interesting choice, with the end of your fighting on Stewart I would not have been surprised to see your cousin Duncan seeking to retake the Sirian Concordance."

"That remains an option," he replied bluntly. "The Concordance was a problem for us, but it was our problem and the League does not relinquish our claims. However, my father is minded more to follow your example."

"My example?" Cecilia spread her hands slightly, looking down at her kimono which was covered by the red and black robe of the Coordinator. "I presume you don't mean in fashion, this probably wouldn't suit him."

Duggan smiled slightly at the thought of his father dressed up _a Japanese_. "Perhaps in purple, with eagle heraldry," he suggested, "But no. The example I'm thinking of is that of fishing in troubled waters. There are thousands of Sirians who've fled your soldiers or Grise's abuses. But there are far more powerful voices in Parliament who are more inclined to speak of our longer history of enmity with House Steiner and House Liao."

"And House Liao are in troubled waters indeed."

"Yes." He hesitated, looking aground the garden: fragrant shrubs surrounded by intricately raked sand and gravel. "There is an army being mustered. That army can be used to liberate Pollux or Graham IV. But it can also be used to strike into the Capellan Confederation. They are already fighting against you and against the Federated Suns so our prospects there are excellent."

"Unless, of course, we come to blows. Should the Confederation come apart - by no means a given - then the closest analogy would be the division of the Terran Hegemony between the Successor States back in the late twenty-eighth century. That was hardly peaceful."

"That might be the Liao's best hope," admitted Duggan. "Let me be clear: my father means to break the Capellan Confederation as a power. So I am not here to suggest that we simply relocate the conflict between our states to Capellan worlds. We want to offer a ceasefire to the same extent as you have with the Lyrans or with the Federated Suns."

They were approaching a corner and Cecilia gestured for Duggan not to continue speaking. She did not reply however, until they had walked the side of the garden from corner to corner.

"Good fences make for good neighbours."

"What?"

"I'm told you're something of a dealmaker, Duggan Marik. So I'll make a deal with you," she told him. "I'll make peace with you on terms of you recognising my _de facto_ control over the four Sirian systems. I cannot guarantee none of my generals will break that truce, but I assure you that I will punish them severely if they do."

Duggan nodded. He was quite sure she would: her response to the raids onto Hoff and Mallory's World by DCMS soldiers during the truth had been brutal.

"As for the Capellans, my terms are simple. I'll not challenge any worlds you claim so long as they are not currently within the Tikonov Commonality. Those worlds will fall within my... influence, shall we say?"

"You're not giving up much there." For the DCMS to reach worlds outside the Tikonov Commonality it would need to take dozens, or even scores of worlds.

"Are you going to argue with Hanse Davion over the disposition of St Ives?" she shot back shrewdly. "You can fight over Tikonov with me, or you can fight over Sarna, Sian and Capella with Chancellor Liao. Which of those was it that your father wanted?"

He laughed in reply. "You have me," he admitted.

"I do," she agreed mildly. And then she smiled and added sweetly. "And if you break this deal, I'll have your head, Marik. Don't doubt me for an instant."


	7. Chapter Six

**The Triad, Tharkad  
District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth  
17 July 3023**

"You know the terms I agreed to on Mars, Selvin," Katrina Steiner told the expatriate Duke of Tamar. She was sat upon her throne, flanked as ever by a pair of _Griffin_ battlemechs in the colours of the Royal Guards. While she appreciated the security provided by the tradition, she did wonder what had possessed her ancestor Craig Steiner to select a fire support 'Mech to operate in the cramped confines of the Throne Room. She'd quietly ordered the pair modified to the medium range -1S variant and then to replace the LRM rack with SRMs. Both requirements had been met with foot-dragging in the name of 'tradition' until she put her foot down.

Selvin Kelswa crossed his arms across his chest. "The truce was guaranteed by the Federated Suns, but only for three years, Katrina. That expires in a matter of weeks and now that the Combine has made peace with the Free Worlds League they only have a small force fighting in the Capellan Confederation to supply. The Coordinator will look for a new direction to expand in and we are the obvious choice."

"Perhaps," the Archon replied with an air of scepticism. "But if that is so then perhaps we should look to our defenses rather than seeking to go onto the offensive. We both know that public opinion rests far more heavily towards guarding our remaining worlds than it has to been reclaiming those lost. How do you propose to convince the Estates General to fund launching a war of aggression?"

"Lestrade assures me that he can convince the majority of the Skye representatives to support the proposal."

Katrina blinked. "Lestrade?" Aldo Lestrade, Duke of Summer, was one of Katrina's biggest critics and arguably the second most powerful noble in the Isle of Skye. And there were a number of people who'd rank him above the Duchess of Skye.

Kelswa cleared his throat. "I may have... exaggerated the degree of our disagreement over the issue of Tamar."

Or maybe you're understating it now to soften the implicit threat. Even dispossessed of his ancestral home, Kelswa was a potent political ally and for him to join Lestrade behind their candidate for Archon (Katrina's cousin Fredrick Steiner) would be a substantial problem. She calculated votes: it wasn't a majority by any measure but Kelswa and Lestrade's factions together would be a powerful minority. "That might be enough. What exactly do you have in mind?"

The duke pulled out a star chart. "The first move is here, at the rimwards tip of Alshain District. A force from Skye strikes at Orestes and Al Hillah. Warlord Samonov won't want to call for help from the Coordinator or the other Warlords, so he'll use his reserves to bolster Rubigen Prefecture. At the same time, we step up raiding from Apollo Theater into Kirchbach to pin down the regiments there."

He moved his finger down to the space between the two named prefectures of Alshain District. Radstadt, the heartland of Alshain and the prefecture that contained Cecilia's conquests of previous years including Tamar itself. "And then our main force hits here: Skokie, Sevren, Laurent and Maestu. Break through here, take Moritz and then on to Tamar, driving a wedge into the Combine."

Katrina cupped her chin. "It's an interesting plan. It may well succeed until Cecilia Kurita takes a personal hand. After that, holding what we have taken will become a challenge. Where do you plan to bring in regiments from, because those already on the border won't be enough."

"I've raised funds," Kelswa promised. "Enough to hire mercenaries and to equip a new regiment of patriots: we're reviving the Tamar Tigers and -"

The door to the throne room swung open and both Archon and Duke turned to look at the cause: while the meeting between them was in the throne room, it was only because Katrina had a flood of meetings in the room both earlier and scheduled for later in the day. Their discussion was supposed to be a private one.

Katrina's eyes widened as she saw a dark-haired man enter, clad in a familiar red and black uniform. "Morgan!"

"Morgan?" Kelswa muttered and then looked closer. "My god, Morgan Kell!"

A second man, Asian in ancestry and clearly not yet comfortable in the uniform of a Kell Hound had followed Morgan into the throne room but he casually leant against the wall by the doors and pretended not to be there in the best approved fashion of a junior officer confronted by royalty.

"It's good to be back," Morgan said with forced calm. "I'm not disturbing anything am I?"

"We're just plotting a war, would you like to come?" offered Kelswa, still slightly stunned. He'd not seen Morgan since the debacle of the last attempt to liberate Tamar - he wasn't sure that anyone had seen the notorious mercenary since then.

The Colonel nodded. "Tamar again? I'll need a few months - I'm a little out of practice."

"Do you mean..." Katrina asked, looking at him in concern.

"Yes, I'm putting the regiment back together again." Morgan ran his hand through his beard. "I gather Patrick has a few months left on his contract with the Free Worlds League but I've sent the word out to those who left the Kell Hounds a few years ago. They'll be making their way to Arc Royal but it'll take some time."

"We may not have time," warned Kelswa. "I don't know if you've been keeping up but the ceasefire with the Combine is only guaranteed for another month. Kurita could already be rallying troops and supplies already."

"What does Simon have to say?"

Simon Johnson was head of the Lyran Intelligence Corps. "He agrees that it's possible: the Coordinator is rotating regiments through the fighting in the Capellan Confederation. Wolf's Dragoons are her spearhead unit there but she's blooding troops from Galedon and Pesht Districts that haven't seen action in ten years. It's slowing her progress - she's only taken two Capellan words since her first wave last year - but it's got her firebrands focused on the battlefields and not on politics. On the other hand, she isn't fighting the League any more so she probably has the capability to invade us again if she wants."

"If she wants." Morgan repeated that. "I've not met her of course."

"She's an unusual Kurita. Then again, among those misogynists the fact she isn't a man is proof of that." Katrina thought back to her meeting on Mars three years before. "I don't think she'd want to go to war, but she's a pragmatist and if a Warlord launches an attack she'd rather indicate her support for it than look like she can't control him."

"And there's another pressure on her."

"What's that?" asked Kelswa.

"I have reason to believe that Yorinaga Kurita will return to the battlefield."

**Imperial City, Luthien  
Pesht District, Draconis Combine  
27 August 3023**

The unheralded arrival of Yorinaga Kurita sent ripples through the court. Even the Coordinator was caught somewhat off guard - she had been made aware that a package had crossed the border with the Lyran Commonwealth and reached Echo, but she had half-expected to hear news of her cousin's death, not that he would elude ISF observation and make a covert journey to the capital.

When he walked up the stairs into the open plaza in front of the palace, no small number of people half-expected him to be followed by a host of soldiers. Instead he was alone, wearing a dress uniform that was a little loose on his frame. His swords were clearly in evidence.

Cecilia received him in one of the gardens. It was a familial scene: Siriwan was running across a grass lawn, arms widespread and occasionally making noises she thought were those of the guns and missiles fitted to whatever aerospace fighter had her fancy at the moment. Closer to Cecilia's seat, cribs held the newest additions to the House.

"Jon Kurita," she told Yorinaga, rather that offering a verbal greeting, and lifted her son from his cradle. "The great hope of my critics."

He bowed deeply to the infant Heir-Designate. "All children are the hopes of the future. It's the place of the Kuritas to carry heavier hopes perhaps, but they are the same in the end."

"We shall see how he bears those hopes," Cecilia replied and then returned Jon to his bed before lifting his twin Sanethia up for inspection. Her cousin murmured bland approval and as she returned child to crib the corner of the Coordinator's mouth twitched slightly in amusement at the unconscious partiality being shown. "Are you here to request permission to commit seppuku again? I can see that Akira recovered your swords..."

"My son has reminded me that I still have duties to fulfill in this life before I face the judgment of the afterlife." Yorinaga reached into his jacket and produced a crumpled letter. "His poetry hasn't improved, to judge by what he sent me."

"Oh?"

He surrendered the letter and Cecilia read:

_Worthless warrior  
Without weapon or hope  
Yet warrior still_

"Ah, yes. Unfortunately it does not appear that Akira is poet of Takashi's stature." Then she read the rest of the letter and a look of annoyance crossed her face. "I did give him a leave of absence to retrieve your swords but contracting himself to the Kell Hounds in exchange for them wasn't precisely what I had in mind."

"The young have been known to make foolish decisions," replied her cousin. "I find myself on the horns of a dilemma, Cecilia. There was a second letter, this one from Morgan Kell. I wouldn't be so trite as to claim fate, but I do believe that he and I will meet again, to resolve our... our past. I confess... I am uncertain that I am prepared, but my son has placed us both back in motion regardless and now I may find him on the other side of a battlefield..."

"I have no reason to seek battle with the Kell Hounds," Cecilia offered. "We have peace with both House Steiner and with House Marik, their current employers, should they renew their contract."

"I know what I feel."

For a brief moment they measured each other's confidence in their words.

"If a conflict breaks out with House Steiner, then they would probably not strike into Dieron," Cecilia mused. She glanced over at her elder daughter, ensuring that she was out of earshot. "I cannot send you back to the Second Sword of Light, Yorinaga-_san_. However, _Tai-shu_ Shotugama is currently organising the Eleventh Pesht Regulars on Kagoshima. Most of the mechwarriors are only recently transferred from the Sun Zhang Academy Cadres. It strikes me that your many virtues would be an excellent example for these young soldiers."

"It would be my honour to serve as their _Tai-sa_," Yorinaga said with a bow.

"Excellent." She mused for a moment. "You may not have heard that in order to assist _Tai-shu_ Sorenson, who is of course our very distant cousin and a man with a deep historical connection to the Alshain District, in restoring the harmony of the Benjamin District that the Legions of Vega have been allowed to carry out their reorganisation in the area under the guidance of _Sho-Sho_ Tetsuhara, who was once of your regiment."

Yorinaga frowned. "I recall a _Tai-i_ of that name."

"It would perhaps be the same man. Perhaps you could advise me, do you think it would be of benefit to have _Tai-shu_ Shotugama send one of the Pesht regiments to support Sorenson's efforts there."

"It occurs to me that doing so would strengthen the bonds of loyalty among your Warlords, _Tono_."

"Then perhaps you will renew your acquaintance with the _Sho-sho_. I believe he makes his headquarters upon Kiamba."

**FWLM Encampment, Old Kentucky  
Sarna Commonality, Capellan Confederation  
27 August 3023**

I am expendable, Gabriel Quinn reminded herself as she was marched through the camp under the 'supervision' of FWLM infantrymen. The captain wasn't precisely a prisoner, she'd been admitted under a flag of truce. On the other hand, the acting-commander of a battalion in Hurloc's Hussars, a Capellan battlemech regiment, would not be allowed free run of the facilities.

The man waiting for her was several years her junior but of a far higher rank. General Duncan Marik, nephew of the Captain-General, greeted her more warmly than she had expected. She was, after all, an officer of the nation that he was invading. "Welcome to my humble abode," he declared, with a courteous bow. "Please, take a chair." It was only a camp stool at a table that probably supported maps when the tent was being used for military purposes.

Duncan sat across the table from her. "Tea, coffee, water?"

"Water please."

The General waved to one of the soldiers who had escorted her, who let his carbine hang by its sling as he poured water from a carafe for her. The other soldier stepped back out of earshot, giving a little privacy for the conversation, and the one playing waiter followed suite.

"So, Captain Quinn. What brings you here to speak to me? Somehow I don't think you're offering terms of surrender."

"No sir." Quinn felt her spine stiffen. "I've been sent to convey a message for you from Chancellor Liao." Long practice kept any resentment from her voice as she said the name.

Duncan nodded. "Alright. What does Mad Max have to say for himself?" He smiled at the disrespectful nickname and despite herself, Quinn found her own lips curving slightly in appreciation of the jest.

"The Chancellor is aware that you have... um, put yourself forward as the next Captain-General."

"Well of course."

Quinn grimaced. "I'm instructed to ask if you are aware that Janos Marik has made arrangements to pass the office to his son Thomas."

The colour drained from Duncan's face. "He's done what!" He slammed his fists down on the table, spilling water from Quinn's glass. "That's impossible. You're..." He paused. "No, my apologies. Your Chancellor must be lying, although I have no doubt that you are relaying his words honestly. Thomas is ComStar, for crying out loud!"

"I can't speak for the accuracy of the information."

"No no." Duncan shook his head and then gave her a perplexed look. "Why you?"

"Why me what?"

"Why send you?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Did he think that I'd be less inclined to shoot the messenger if this... this tall tale was delivered by a beautiful woman?"

Quinn drained what was left of her water. "I doubt Chancellor Liao would be unduly concerned if you did. I'm not a favorite of his."

Duncan frowned. "It would seem that he doesn't recognise talent then. Your battalion has held up a regiment - understrength, but a regiment - for almost a month."

"I don't think you're really interested in the whole story," Quinn told him. "Suffice to say, he pardoned me of certain military crimes on the petition of his son and now that Tormano is dead, he has no reason to continue his forbearance should I cross his mind again."

"But you still serve him?"

"I serve the Capellan Confederation."

"Your Chancellor would say that he is the Confederation."

"The Confederation is its people. Chancellor Liao is a..." She shook her head. "I say too much. Are you sure this is just water?"

Duncan smiled, reached over to the glass and drank from it himself. "Just water," he assured her. "So, you're loyal to the Confederation but not to House Liao? Must be problematic."

"And you're loyal to the League even though you may have been supplanted as heir."

"Touché."

"I suppose the question would have to be: what are we going to do about our respective... problems."

Quinn shook her head, as if in resistance to the notion. "With respect sir, we shouldn't be having this conversation. We are enemies."

"Adversaries perhaps." Duncan touched the water on the table, using his finger tip to spread it across the plastic. "But who else can we confide in, hmm? Or do the rest of your battalion feel the same way you do?"

She laughed bitterly at that. "No doubt half of them would turn me into the Maskirova if they heard this."

"And even if SAFE isn't watching me - unlikely - no doubt dear cousin Duggan has his sympathisers amongst my staff." Duncan shrugged. "But we can't help each other if we don't first help ourselves, or am I wrong?"

"Why are we even talking about helping each other?" Quinn asked, intrigued despite her urge for caution. "This is madness."

"There's nothing mad about self-interest," pointed out Duncan. "And if _you_ can help me become Captain-General then maybe I can help _you_ get rid of House Liao. Or vice versa, whichever order makes most sense."

Quinn hesitated and then - what the hell, the Chancellor would probably send her to her death more successfully one day even if she avoided being executed - raised her glass. "I'll drink to that."

**Linzee House, Mira  
Capellan March, Federated Suns  
19 September 3023**

The royal wedding had clearly brought out the best in the Federated Suns. Wines shipped in from the famous vineyards of Mesartim (fortunately undamaged by the recent battles there) had practically flowed. The bride had been gorgeous in white and only a keen eye could have detected that the happy couple hadn't waited for the ceremony to get started on providing the realm with an heir.

The best man's speech had been short and to the point, the dancing (both amongst the guests and by the troupe of highland dancers sent from Northwind to honour their new overlord) excellent and the ushers, prominent amongst them the eighteen year old Morgan Hasek-Davion, had cut a devastating swathe among the young maidens of the court. Even those who might be less than happy had unbent for the occasion: the Duke of New Syrtis had shown not the least visible sign of bitterness that his son's claim to the throne seemed to be well along the way of being sidelined and when a congratulatory note from the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine was read out even the crusty Aaron Sandoval had raised his glass when Ardan called a toast to Cecilia Kurita and her three beautiful children.

Hanse and Nelitha hadn't been seen since a little before midnight but as the sun rose, Aaron went out into the gardens for some fresh air and saw Michael Hasek-Davion sat at a patio table, a glass and half a bottle of tequila in front of him. Realising that his own glass was almost empty, the Duke of Robinson threw back the last of it and walked over to sit opposite his counterpart. "Nice wedding."

"Yes, it was."

Aaron's eyes narrowed at the absentminded response. "I half-expected you to be eating your heart out, the whole ceremony." It was indiplomatic to say so, but they were social and political equals and also quite alone.

"I'm glad I didn't spoil the ceremony by letting it show." Michael refilled his glass from the bottle and when Aaron held out his own, poured several fingers into the other Duke's as well. "And you didn't exactly throw a fit when there was a toast to the Coordinator."

"I suppose she's not so bad for a Snake. I wouldn't mind a more aggressive policy there, but compared to Takashi..." Cecilia's predecessor had been _entirely_ too able in directing his Warlords against the Draconis March. "Reconciled yourself to the fact that you'll not be ruling from New Avalon?"

Michael gave Aaron a sour look and then sipped from his glass before setting it down and using his right hand - the one that was still flesh - to tug on his long black pigtail. "I did rule from New Avalon, back in Ian's day. In fact, if not in name. And can you honestly say that I did a bad job?"

"When you remembered to work for the Federated Suns and not for your own advancement."

"As if you've never had an agenda of your own?"

It was Aaron's turn to grimace. He was fairly sure that there was no evidence linking him to the unauthorised attack on Marduk five years before but if Hanse ever found evidence that he'd quietly pushed Stephen Davion into carrying out the raid then he'd be in hot water. "Well Hanse isn't Ian."

"No, he isn't," Michael agreed. "And I'm not George Hasek, either."

The Duke of Robinson frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, that when the Capellans were over-running Valexa, I sat paralyzed on New Syrtis and it was Hanse who saved our bacon. The irony is, he acted like a March Lord and I was probably more use as an administrator back in Ian's day."

"You've had too much to drink." And usually, Hasek-Davion held his alcohol well, the Sandoval recalled. Either he was declining or he'd been out here drinking for longer than it appeared. "But even if you're right, what are you going to do about it? Resign your offices and ask Hanse for a job at the court?"

"No." Michael's voice was quiet and cold. "If I'm going to start rebuilding my reputation then it needs to be here." He looked around and then smirked slightly. "Well, not Mira, but in the Capellan March. I'll show them all that it isn't just Hanse Davion that can put the Capellans in their place."

"Of course you will," Aaron agreed drily, masking his concern. There was a false note to what he was hearing but the calculating look in Michael's eyes that was pure Hasek-Davion. "So why are you telling me all this? Afraid I'll want my troops back and hamstring whatever it is you have in mind?"

"Ah, well that's because I want something from you."

"My first-born child?" the older man asked sarcastically.

"Actually, my own first-born. Morgan graduated from Hanse's precious New Avalon Institute of Science this year and he's been slated for a place in the Heavy Guards when they return to New Avalon. I'd rather he went for a unit closer to home but Hanse won't do me any favours there."

"I don't see what you want me to do about that."

"Ah well, your son Talbot is also scheduled to be transferred into the Davion Guards, albeit into the Fifth Guards which is in the Capellan March. If their assignments were swapped then Hanse would be presented with a _fait accompli_ and since at least Morgan will be with a Davion Guards regiment that he can trust to keep an eye on him, I don't imagine he'll respond."

Aaron shrugged his shoulders. He didn't recall Talbot being particularly enthused about the exact regiment he was assigned to. He'd be disappointed to have an assignment away from the active combat zones, but personally Aaron would be happier about it. "So why should I do that for you?"

"It just so happens that one of my staff found a well preserved piece of twentieth century memorabilia in a museum on Jonathon, after the Illician Lancers took the planet," Michael revealed. "A genuine copy of the Popular Science magazine, specifically from October 1920. More than eleven centuries old - a remarkable find."

"You know my weakness," Aaron admitted. That issue had a cover by Normal Rockwell, his favorite twentieth century painter, making the item not only a priceless piece of history but almost irresistible. "Alright, I'll do that." And while I won't mention this matter to Hanse, I think I'll have a few people keep a closer eye on you, he resolved. I want to know what you're up to. I cannot and will not allow you to plunge us into a civil war.

**Gutheim, Arc Royal  
District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth  
30 September 3023**

The first thing that Salome Ward did when she walked off the Manannon Mac Lir was to lay her fist forcefully across Morgan Kell's jaw. The powerfully built Colonel wasn't decked, as many others would have been, but even he was staggered and Salome marched on past him without halting towards the buildings that were clearly already occupied by dozens of mechwarriors and their battlemechs.

Dan Allard spared the startled Morgan an apologetic look but he followed Salome wordlessly and it was only the third person out of the dropship that gave the Colonel a warm greeting.

"Morgan!" Patrick ignored his brother's offered hand and dragged him into a fierce embrace. "My god, you look like an old man!"

"You're looking well yourself. Command suits you."

His brother shook his head. "This is still your regiment, Morgan."

"And you've led them for two years."

"Not all of them." Patrick released him and gestured to the buildings. "Not the ones that came back when you whistled. You think they'd have done that for me?"

"You might be surprised. A few new faces there as well." Morgan broke off to shake hands with Seamus Fitzpatrick, the Kell Hounds' aerospace commander. "Major, good to see you."

"Good to see you back, sir," the slender redhead answered. "Are we headed for some action?"

"I think we'll be hurting for anything else." Morgan gestured towards the buildings complex. "Adam Fox has been putting together the aero wing again, I think he'll be glad to hand off to you though."

"Adam's back too? Old home week with a vengeance. How about Cormac?"

Morgan shook his head regretfully and Seamus' eyes dulled a moment at the tacit declaration that the commander of the Kell Hounds Third Aerofighter Squadron would not be flying with them, or anyone, ever again. "Andrea Hillson made it back though. You might want to consider her for the slot, unless you think Rob Kirk is ready for the job?"

"Not quite yet," Seamus answered. "I'll leave you two to get reacquainted and go see how Andrea has shaped up."

The brothers watched him walk away and then turned back to each other. "I -" they both said in unison. Then they laughed.

"Age before beauty," Patrick offered.

"Go ahead then," his older brother replied and got punched in the shoulder. "Ow! Alright. I'm sorry I couldn't explain myself better when I left. Actually, I suppose I didn't explain myself at all."

"Not really, no. But it's clear, at least now, that you broke up the regiment in order to rebuild it someday."

"I asked people to join other units or to take on teaching roles in order to identify and recruit people for a new and larger Kell Hounds regiment in the future. I have to admit, I expected longer than this but..."

Patrick waited for Morgan to continue. When he didn't, he prompted him: "But?"

"But either Yorinaga Kurita is dead and everything I've been afraid of was nothing but a mirage or we're headed for a confrontation that dwarfs what happened three years ago."

The younger Kell brother shivered at the thought of the uncanny duel that had taken place on Tamar. Then a thought struck him. "Morgan, tell me we aren't going back to Tamar."

His brother was silent.

"Morgan!"

"Katrina doesn't like it either, but Kelswa has too much support to be denied. By the end of the year we'll be back at war with the Draconis Combine."

**Atreus City, Atreus,  
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League  
3 December 3023**

The cavalcade of open-top limousines and military forces in the colours of every conceivable province was ostensibly in honour of the victorious general and his soldiers: pride of place was given to Duncan Marik, being driven in the car immediately in front of his own _Orion_ (piloted, in this case, by a volunteer from the latest graduating class of Allison Mechwarrior Institute on nearby New Olympia.

Immediately following behind the battlemech was a second limousine carrying the Captain-General and three of his sons: Duggan, Paul and Thomas, the latter looking uncomfortably in civilian garbs rather than the robes he was accustomed to. The youngest son of Janos' first marriage, Thomas had rarely been seen in public since his departure to join ComStar.

Sitting across from Janos and Thomas, Duggan privately thought that Thomas being reintroduced to the political elite of the Free Worlds League marginally edged out recognition of Duncan's military successes against the Capellans for second place among the reasons. The primary reason, of course, was to muster support and more importantly funding from the Parliament. Taking five worlds in less than a year had not only redressed the loss of the Sirian Concordance but also highlighted the weakness of the Confederation: only lack of supplies had halted the offensive.

It also added sympathetic Members of Parliament: the delegates of the newly formed Wazan Province (sat in the car following the Captain-General's) could counted on to vote for further attacks to secure their flank. A similarly aggressive plan was being contemplated for the coming year, seizing worlds to forge yet another province, linking the gains to the Duchy of Orloff and not coincidentally positioning the FWLM to threaten Capella, former capital of the Confederation and still one of its most important industrial worlds.

Ignoring the cheering crowds that lined the capital's avenues, Duggan leant forwards. "Do you think Duncan suspects that he isn't in line to command Operation Merlin?" he asked.

"I believe he must suspect, given the absence of any Marik Militia regiments in the proposed roster," Paul answered. The exhausted regiments that had carried the defense against the Lyrans and then the offensive would be redeployed less demanding duties along the Lyran and new Combine borders with provincial regiments forming the core of the new task force. Tentatively, Catherine Humphreys and Christopher Halas had agreed to provide six regiments between them.

Sitting back, Duggan tried to look between the legs of the _Orion_ to gauge his cousin's mood. As if in response, Duncan pulled himself upright in the car and raised one hand in acceptance of the applause being directed at the parade. "He doesn't seem to be letting it get to - Jesus Christ!"

His exclamation was in response to the blazing trail of an anti-armour rocket that streaked across the relatively short distance from one of the office buildings that lined the avenue and impacted on the rear knee of the heavy battlemech. The _Orion_ stumbled, the damage - although minor - unexpected by the inexperienced Mechwarrior at the controls, and Duggan was rocked in his seat as the limousine slewed to a halt, narrowly but successfully avoiding a collision.

Too narrowly, as seventy-five tons of battlemech fell backwards on top of the vehicle, half-crushing it.

Chaos reigned as panicking civilians milled in confusion. Many, not unreasonably, fled the sudden carnage. Others, meritously, joined Duncan Marik, who had left his own car and run back towards the scene. The confusion slowed any reasonable response but a squad of military police managed to push through the crowd and into the building that the rocket had come from and more soldiers were converging on the location.

A screaming Duggan Marik was pulled from the wreckage, the source of his agony evident when it became clear that most of his left leg was a pulverised ruin.

"Get the Mech cockpit open, there's a medical kit in the survival gear there," ordered Duncan, pushing the first two volunteers in that direction. The fallen battlemech twitched, trying to rise but only managing to grind down upon the wreckage. "And make the damn fool stop moving it!" He unbuckled his belt and attempted to improvise a tourniquet for his maimed cousin.

By the time paramedics arrived and took over the care of Duggan Marik and the concussed driver of the limousine, it was plain that they were the only survivors of the five people in the car. Stained with blood, Duncan had to order another squad of military police to take the horrified cadet away, to spare him an immediate lynching.

"My god, this is terrible," one of the new MPs muttered. "What do we do now?"

Duncan straightened. "You need to get to Parliament. And I need to find out who did this."

"Don't you..." The woman looked around in confusion. "Shouldn't you go to Parliament too?"

"Only if they call me." Duncan smiled depreciatingly. "I'm a soldier, I don't hold any political office." For now, anyway. He took her arm and directed her around the wreckage. "Here, use my car. I won't need it for a little while."

Obediently, the woman led the rest of the delegation around the wreckage, numbly revising the speech she'd been memorising to deliver in the maiden address of their province's representation among the Free Worlds League Parliament.

Behind her, Duncan turned to the approaching officer, a thin black man wearing the stripes of a Force Commander on the cuffs and collar of his uniform. As he also wore the patches of the local Military Police regiment, that made him the man in command of the scene of the attack. "Have your men captured whoever fired that rocket?" Duncan demanded angrily, pretending to ignore the cameras and recorders of media still recovering from the catastrophe that was clearly going to be the hottest news of the year.

The Force Commander swallowed. "No General. We've found what we believe to be the weapon, discarded, and a forensics team is en route. However, whoever was using it, they managed to get clear before the police could reach the room in question."

Just as planned, Duncan congratulated himself while continuing to outwardly portray anger and grief befitting the moment.

**Kiamba, Buckminster Prefecture  
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine  
7 December 3023**

"Kurita-_sama_, I presume that you have received the same information that I have?" Minobu Tetsuhara asked once the commander of the Eleventh Pesht Regulars was sitting opposite his desk.

Yorinaga Kurita placed a dispatch case upon the desk. "The Sixth and Tenth Lyran Guards regiments launching attacks upon Al Hillah and Orestes? Yes, my cousin has advised me of this, Tetsuhara-_sama_. It seems that while the Fifth Alshain Regulars and Fourth Proserpina Hussars have been handled roughly, that Warlord Samsonov is confident he requires no assistance."

Minobu spread his hands. "Of course, were he to find himself under attack elsewhere then the dispatch of the Thirteenth Alshain Regulars and Sixth An Ting Legion to relieve those worlds will leave him with few reserves." Neither officer felt the need to even mention the difficulties Samsonov had caused himself with Rasalhague Prefecture, which had led to the Second Rasalhague Drakons regiment embarking on an unauthorised but not specifically forbidden invasion of Santander V which had been re-occupied by pirates earlier in the year. "But of course, as we are assigned to the command of Warlord Sorenson, we must concern ourselves only with Benjamin Military District."

"Absolutely." The _Tai-sa_ lowered his head for a moment. "It seems to me, however, that both of the worlds are very close to Benjamin District and that since we are now at war with the Lyran Commonwealth, it would not be unreasonable for me to season my soldiers in action against the LCAF. Surely there would be nothing wrong in doing so in such a way that I might also indirectly be supporting to position of the noble Warlord of Alshain?"

"I cannot see that your actions would be anything other than proper." A thin smile crossed Minobu's face. "May I construe that your intentions could be furthered by my own forces?"

"It seems to me that the supply lines of the LCAF would be rather complicated by the loss of certain worlds at the southern tip of the Colmar Theater. How difficult would it be to land certain of your forces upon the planet of Ganshoren?"

Minobu leant forwards. "You may perhaps be aware that _Tai-shu_ Sorenson recently authorised the conversion of six Overlord dropships for the purposes of accommodating combined arms forces such as those the Coordinator has entrusted me with. If there were to be a jumpship of the Star Lord class available -"

"Or perhaps two of the Invader class?"

"Quite so. Then two Legions - perhaps the Vega-juuichi and Vega-roku would be nearest - could be landed there by the end of January. And if the transport element then returned to Port Moseby, I dare say that two or three other Legions could be concentrated there and ready to embark the following month." It would essentially maroon the Vega-juuichi and Vega-roku but Minobu was confident that the two legions - each the equivalent of two combined arms regiments - could manage for a while without dropship support.

Yorinaga nodded. "I believe that this would be very desirable, _Sho-sho_. Would two Legions have sufficient force to seriously threaten Lyran control of Ganshoren?"

"Unless it was reinforced - which of course, is very likely - then two Legions would be quite sufficient to take a lightly defended planet," Minobu assured him. "The equipment salvaged from Procyon has left the Legions well supplied."

"Excellent. I will prevail then upon our _Tai-shu_ to allow me the transportation assets to move the Eleventh Pesht Regulars and supporting arms to Blue Diamond. It would be pleasant to think that this may benefit our brother warriors of the Alshain District."

"Purely by coincidence, of course."

"Naturally. These operations will be entirely for the benefit of the Benjamin District, after all."

The two men smiled quietly at the circumvention of Warlord Samsonov's wishes. There was no doubt that he would be fuming at an attack upon worlds facing his District, but he wouldn't have a leg to stand on if it came to a complaint against their own Warlord. Sorenson was the Coordinator's strong right hand and everyone knew it.

"How is your own supply situation, Kurita-_sama_?"

Yorinaga relaxed his posture now that the business of the conversation was over. "It is impressive. I am used to the Pesht Regulars having broken down battlemechs but many of my young soldiers have been provided with battlemechs fresh from the factories. I was disconcerted at first to think I was being provided with two companies of _Charger_s but these new _Hatamoto_ machines that Chandrasekhar-_san_ has made Wells Technologies build from damaged chassis are entirely different."

"Slower, I've heard."

"Oh yes. Slower even than many a Lyran machine. But so is an _Atlas_ and that's a good enough battlemech for most." He spread his hands. "I'm very happy with my family _Warhammer_ of course, but the armour and weapons are impressive. The Eleventh may not be the fastest regiment in the DCMS but with many _Panther_s and several new _Tiger_s we have a great deal of firepower which should be quite a surprise for the Lyrans."

**Zurich, Tikonov Commonality  
Capellan Confederation  
19 December 3023**

In more than twenty years of service in the Capellan Confederation Armed Forces - interrupted by two years in a military prison - Captain Quinn had never before in this position. Having arrived with her battalion - little more than a company in truth - to reinforce the Tikonov front she had not expected a warm welcome. No colonel ever truly believed that they had sufficient soldiers so being declared surplus to requirements on the Corey front (still recovering from the Marik onslaught) and sent to Tikonov was a fairly clear statement of what low regard they were held in.

But parading in front of the Chancellor's spoiled brat of a daughter, harangued for failure to bring with her a cornucopia of military hardware that Quinn doubted even existed but that Romano thought must be en route to her...

"Listen to me when I am speaking!" Romano screeched and lashed out with the back of her hand.

A slap across the face was humiliation. A slap from a civilian and a Liao? In front of _her_ soldiers, who she would have to lead into combat and probably their deaths on the orders of this incompetent sow!

Romano's bodyguards had wisely ensured that the soldiers in front of their mistress were not armed. But they were not prepared - and Romano herself blocked their vision - as Gabriel Quinn lashed out sharply and the heel of her hand crushed the Liao's larynx.

It wasn't an immediately fatal wound but it was a treasonous one. Quinn's soldiers and Romano's bodyguards froze for a critical instant in disbelief at the unexpected attack. The bodyguards were armed but the soldiers had a better and clearer view and reacted a hair faster.

Four mechwarriors were cut down by gunfire from the two men who managed to bring their automatic rifles into play, before they themselves were beaten to the floor by Quinn's surviving soldiers. The other five didn't even manage that much.

"Buddha, Gabriel, what were you thinking?" demanded Sub-Commander Karl-Gustav Toman, the oldest mechwarrior in the group, taking up one of the rifles. "Were you thinking at all?"

Quinn held out one hand for the weapon, looking down into the venomous eyes of Romano as the younger woman sprawled on the floor, fighting simply to breathe. Toman relinquished the weapon reluctantly. "What's the penalty for leading worlds in secession from the Confederation, Karl?"

"Death, of course."

"And for killing a member of the Chancellor's family?"

"Again, death." His eyes widened. "You can't mean..."

Quinn's finger stroked the trigger once and a 7mm hollow-point round entered Romano's forehead, almost dead centre. Judging by the mess, she had had a brain in their after all. There was a manic fire in Quinn's eyes as she looked up. "Well, she's dead."

**House of Government, Atreus City  
Atreus, Free Worlds League  
24 December 3023**

"Merry Christmas," Captain-General Duncan Marik told the image of himself in the mirror. He raised a glass of champagne in toast and drained it.

He'd laid seeds in his conversation with Gabriel Quinn four months ago, not really expecting anything but a little mischief to amount from them, but now they had sprouted and offered dazzling rewards. Setting the glass aside, Duncan looked at the mirror again and straightened his epaulette minutely before turning to the door of the antechamber. As if on cue it opened and Duncan walked through it.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Parliament, the Captain-General!"

More than four hundred purple-robed men and woman rose to their feet punctiliously as Duncan entered the golden chamber. Some looked at him with respect or interest, others with hostility they disguised with varying degrees of skill. His cousin Duggan was among the latter, standing with the aid of a crutch. A cybernetic leg was within the abilities of even the reduced medical establishment of the Succession Wars, but such things were not approved off in the Free Worlds League and accepting one would have killed Duggan's political future.

More favorably inclined, Duggan's older sister was among the Tamarind delegation. Exiled years ago for her marriage choice, Therese Marik's support for Duncan had been easily bought: return to the centre of power and the opportunity for her sons to be reintroduced into the succession. Duncan had no sons, after all, so there was no reason that grandsons of Janos Marik could not aspire to the same throne that loomed in front of Duncan now.

Ascending the low dais, Duncan turned and bowed deeply to the assembled leaders of the Free Worlds League before all those present took their seats.

Hector Stewart, Speaker of the House, stood. "Honorable Members of Parliament, Captain General, I'm sure we all have a great deal to do today but the business of the Free Worlds League, as ever, places a burden upon us. I would like to thank everyone who has delayed their preparations for the Christmas season in order to attend this important gathering."

Duncan also rose to his feet before speaking. "As the Earl of Stewart has justly reminded us all, we are taking time from our families for this so I shall be brief."

"The military budget agreed for the coming year was specified in expectation that it would be spent on the proposed Operation Merlin. That operation will now be delayed by a minimum of six months and may in fact be cancelled as a result of events that have taken place in the last week."

This announcement was hardly met with overwhelming support. Members from provinces bordering the Capellan Confederation appeared to be barely restraining themselves from rising to their own feet.

"I apologise for springing this upon you so suddenly but I myself have only learned of the facts that make this a driving necessity in the last twenty-four hours. I assure you that this is no indication of my wishing to break off the momentum of our war against the Capellan Confederation. However, events have overtaken us: I have received a message from certain officers within the Capellan forces in the Tikonov Commonality, advising that Romano Liao - the Chancellor's daughter and their commander - is dead and that they intend to form a republic out of the worlds that they control. This same cabal of officers are petitioning that their republic shall join the Free Worlds League!"

Had a pin dropped upon the marble floor of the parliament chamber, not one person could have missed the sound.

"Under the circumstances, I propose to lead the federal regiments assembling for Operation Merlin to the support of our newest province. May I look to Parliament for support in this?"

Duggan struggled to his feet to protest but Catherine Humphreys beat him to it. "And what about the provincial regiments involved? We have been very considerate of you and your Uncle in providing for Operation Merlin but this changes matters a great deal."

Turning to face the Duchess, Duncan bowed his head slightly. "I quite agree, Duchess Humphreys. As the regiments Oriente and Andurien have provided are supplied for campaign but not in position to assist in this new endeavour, it is my inclination to employ them against targets of opportunity closer to the borders of their home provinces. If you have particular recommendations then I would be delighted to discuss it with yourself, Duke Halas... ah, and my apologies, Duke Orloff - it was not my intention to omit mention of the regiment you have graciously contributed."

The Duchess subsided and Duncan received wary nods from the influencial Halas and Orloff dukes - controlling powerful border provinces, each had a valuable military force.

"And what about the Combine?" Duggan managed to interject.

Duncan's lip curled. "What about them, cousin?"

"The treaty -"

"Ah yes. The treaty. The one that you pushed on poor Janos." Duncan shook his head theatrically. "Pushed on the League as well." His head wasn't bowed forwards, his whole body leant aggressively towards Duggan. "An entire province of the Free Worlds League taken by the Draconis Combine and you persuaded us all not even to fight for them. What over province would you see shorn away and subjected to the tyranny that House Kurita glories in? And not only that, you promise them a free hand with man and women who have sought the protection of the Free Worlds Leagues!"

The Captain-General gestured towards the Members representing the Border Protectorate, now a thin salient holding out between the Lyran Isle of Skye and the Draconis prefecture of Sirius. "Ladies and gentlemen, I assure you of this: should the Dragon turn her grasp towards you then I will march to your defense, not cravenly cede you in exchange for my own ease!"

Bested and knowing he had been bested, Duggan sank back into his chair. You'll pay for that, Duncan. But it may be Cecilia Kurita who exacts the price.

**Avalon City, New Avalon  
Crucis March, Federated Suns  
31 December 3023**

"Who ordered this?" Hanse Davion asked, looking at the papers on his desk. "It can't really be Michael."

Nicholas Truston spread his hands. "Quintus Allard's sources confirm what Marshal Crossburs and Ashley are telling us: the Fifth Guards RCT is proceeding by command circuit to Beid and ships are being positioned to move the Assault Guards. All the orders have come through the proper chains of command and two Syrtis Fusilier RCTs are also heading for Beid. If I didn't know better - and I don't - I'd say it looks as if the Duke is preparing for an immediate military campaign and the only likely target is the St Ives Commonality."

"Can he support that?"

Yvonne Davion looked unhappy. "He can, yes. Unfortunately it means he's pulling supplies from the same stockpiles that we're relying on for rebuilding the units that fought against McCarron. It won't be enough to keep us from hitting New Hessen, we're well advanced in preparations, but it's going to cut the legs out from our supplies when it comes to following that up."

The First Prince didn't bother wasting his breath asking if they could stop the flow of supplies: technically they were under Hasek-Davion's control in his role as Marshal of the Capellan March and it had bordered on circumvention on the chain of command to allocate them to Hanse's own regiments. "Very well. The next question is whether we should still go ahead and hit New Hessen."

"I don't see the situation as being more favorable to us if we wait," Truston replied. "Whatever's happening to the Capellan command structure there is paralyzing them - by this time next year it could be under Draconian control."

"That's too disturbing even to contemplate," muttered Yvonne. "I say go. Two Crucis Lancer regimental combat teams is enough to handle the known garrison and it'll give the Sixteenth Deneb Light Cavalry valuable field experience. We'll still have the ships to keep the Forty-Third Avalon Hussars in reserve, so there's very little chance of Capellan regular forces holding out for any appreciable length of time."

The Sixteenth and Forty-Third had both been raised since the fall of Tikonov and while both had a number of experienced troops, it would be their first campaign as units. A hopefully easy attack with two experienced regimental combat teams taking the lead would give them a relatively easy chance to shake down and find any weak links.

"Alright, the go ahead is given." Hanse leant back in his chair, trying to clear his mind before grappling again with Michael Hasek-Davion's agenda. Actually the strategic situation all over the Inner Sphere was decidedly murky. The Lyrans and Draconians were fighting again, no one knew yet which way Duncan Marik would jump and the Capellan Confederation was busily falling apart - which was wonderful, but not knowing where the parts were falling was more than a little wracking upon the nerves.

Hmm. Well it had worked with the Highlanders, why not again. No one else knew where the parts were falling so they must be uneasy. A prod in the right place.

"Nicholas, could you put together a briefing on the leadership of Chesterton Commonality as well as what assets you have on Algot and Holloran V. Expect myself and Duchess Fenlon to be the main briefees." Olivia Fenlon, dowager duchess of Chesterton, was also Hanse's Foreign Minister.

"Certainly, what do you have in mind?"

Hanse grinned boyishly. "Well just because we know that we can't do much more than take New Hessen doesn't mean that the poor Prefect of Chesterton knows that. Given a little smoothing of the way and a little push and he might find himself seriously at odds with the orders arriving from Sian."

"Confusion to our enemies."

"To our adversaries, at any rate." The First Prince considered what he knew about Victor Hargreaves. "It might well be that the Prefect isn't an enemy but an ally of ours, even if he doesn't know it yet."

A chime from his desk distracted him from the thought. Keying his intercom, he accepted the call. "What is it?"

"A call from your wife, your highness. Princess Nelitha would like to remind you that the guests for the New Year celebrations began arriving almost half an hour ago."

"Of course. Please tell her I will be there immediately." He closed the channel and checked the clock. "I'm sorry, we've overrun and there's a certain lady that I most definitely do not want to make an enemy of."

"The wisdom of House Davion is evident in your behaviour," Yvonne told him with a chuckle. "Run along Hanse, we can let ourselves out."

He stood and headed for the door. "Don't drink _all_ the brandy in my drinks cabinet before doing so."


	8. Chapter Seven

**ComStar First Circuit Compound  
Hilton Head Island, North America, Terra  
8 January 3024**

Emilio Rachan was conspicuously absent from the First Circuit gathering but the Primus was attended on by a woman only a few years Myndo's elder. The Precentor of Atreus hid a smile when she recognised Sharilar Mori, one of her carefully cultivated contacts inside ROM. It was always a relief to have faithful friends - Cecilia had more than repaid her for Altair by neutralizing Rachan's influence by deftly evading any acknowledgement of him. Mori would be a far more acceptable replacement.

"The beginning of a new year," Tiepolo announced as if it was really a surprise, more than a week into it. "And on the subject of new beginnings, I hope that you will all welcome Precentor Mori, who will be taking over as Precentor for Sian."

Sian! Myndo's eyes flicked momentarily to Vilnius Tejh, currently holder of the office.

"Vilnius Tejh is moving to take over responsibility as Precentor Luthien - it's long over time that our organisation within the Combine was brought in line with that of the rest of the Inner Sphere - and as the primary representative to House Kurita."

Waterly grit her teeth discreetly. Tejh! And a reorganisation would scatter her own network in the area.

"We can expect reverses for the Coordinator this year: she is now at war with both the Lyrans and the Capellans, to which must be added the pressure she will be under to respond to Duggan Marik's repudiation of last year's treaty." Tiepolo beamed approvingly at the new Precentor Luthien. "You and Vandel have my confidence - the situation in the Capellan March is very promising - and I hope that together you can have similar effect upon Galedon District: Warlord Bernstein is very new to the office, after all."

The chances of Bernstein, who had commanded one of Cecilia's prized Proserpina Hussar regiments, being lured into disloyalty was too low for Waterly to waste thought on. Unless of course, Tiepolo had something else in mind. While it wasn't in her area of responsibility, she hadn't thought that the Capellan March's disposition was particularly favourable so perhaps something was brewing under the surface.

"Precentor Waterly, I'd like to particularly congratulate you on your handling of the Marik situation. Duncan Marik could have been the least desirable choice as to Captain-General but moving him into conflict with the Draconis Combine restores the situation admirably."

"The opportunity arose and it seemed a shame not to take advantage." Tampering with someone's opinions via the information that they received was always a delicate matter and Waterly remained uncertain if underplaying the capability of the DCMS had been decisive in the new Captain-General's decision. She'd been aiming more at arranging his demise at the hands of the DCMS before he could take the throne but events had turned out satisfactorily, which was all that really mattered. And it still might end up that way.

"Indeed. I hope that you will continue to arrange that his reign is troubled and no longer than is strictly needful."

Well since you evidently not going to send me back to the Draconis Combine so I can do something more productive with their education system. Waterly had tried to provide some quiet influence moving the Free Worlds League's education more towards proper Blakist indoctrination and even made a little headway in four provinces. Out of just over one hundred and fifty.

Say what you will about House Kurita's dictatorial government structure, but at least you only had to convince the people at the top of the inherent rectitude of Blakist philosophy. Hopefully Cecilia wouldn't introduce too many well-intentioned changes before Waterly could meet with her again. It probably wasn't the Coordinator's fault she'd been raised a Kurita, but it did lead her in odd directions sometimes.

"With the Capellan Confederation under considerable external pressure, stirring civil war inside the Free Worlds League and the Federated Suns will leave all three rimwards Successor States in disarray." The Primus nodded solemnly. "It would be preferable, although I admit difficult, to keep the Combine and the Commonwealth focused upon each other while this happens - were either of them to intervene it could rally the Suns and the League against them."

It was Precentor Mori who spoke up. "Excuse me, Primus, but there are certain points of your policy that do not make sense to me."

"What is the nature of your concern, Precentor Sian?"

The woman bowed her head modestly. "I am uncertain how you intend to prevent fragmented Successor States from being simply devoured by the relatively unscathed Lyrans and Draconians."

"I have no doubt that they will endeavour to," agreed the Primus. "However, they will also have to contend with each other and we will provide covert aid to realms that they threaten, charitable assistance in restoring their fractured governments that will give us unparalleled ability to infiltrate their bureaucracies. Within a generation, we will be the strings connecting ruler to ruled across half of the Inner Sphere."

**Imperial City, Luthien  
Pesht District, Draconis Combine  
27 January 3024**

"I don't think I've ever been so tempted to order an assassination," Cecilia observed, setting aside the report of her ambassador on Atreus. "All this power is corrupting me."

"You're referring to that quaint western saying about absolute power?" asked Jasmine.

"I thought that that was morality?" the Coordinator asked absently. "I was talking about practicality: not only would it be dishonourable to have Duggan Marik murdered, I'd kick off a war of assassins. No one wins in that scenario." She looked down at her infant son Jon, who was still at the 'lie in the cradle and kick vaguely' stage. "Hurry up and get old enough to take over before your mother gets delusions of power."

"May I enquire as to your intentions?" Hirushi Shotugama asked respectfully. The Warlord of Pesht was not a natural child-minder, but since Jasmine Kurita doted on her 'grand-children' he could often be found near them. In this case, Cecilia had invited him to join them for lunch and he had stayed to discuss responses to the current situation.

Cecilia dropped the letter and walked over to the window. "I'm not going to launch into a major campaign against the Free Worlds League," she decided. "But there's no reason to let them know that. The Lyrans come first. Which doesn't mean that that little..." She broke off in deference to the big ears of Siriwan, who was watching the conversation with fascination. "Which does not mean that I will excuse Duncan Marik for this."

"Inform _Tai-shu_ Conti that he is to consolidate his position and may attack worlds that remain under Capellan control but he is not to use DCMS units attack any worlds currently under the control of the Free Worlds League."

"Not to use DCMS units..." Shotugama's expression grew admiring as he recalled what non-DCMS regiments were at the disposal of the Warlord of Dieron District. "Ah."

"Precisely. As for the Lyran Commonwealth, the only contribution he need make at this time is to provide logistical support to a mercenary force that I will be dispatching to seize the world of New Earth."

"Isn't that the home base of one of the Twelfth Star Guards regiments that the Lyrans employ?" asked Shotugama cautiously. "It seems likely that it would be easily reinforced."

Cecilia nodded. "Given its strategic location, I think it's safe to say that it most certainly will be reinforced. However, the mercenaries in question have something to prove and nice as it would be to take the longest settled world other than Terra itself, I'm not depending on them to win. My main concern is to draw reinforcements away from other theaters."

"That will be rather rough on the mercenaries."

"I'm told that Marcus Baxter likes it rough."

The double entendre set Shotugama blinking and it took him several seconds to place the name. "The new commander of McCarron's Armoured Cavalry! You mean you've won them away from the service of House Liao?"

"Won them away? Their agents approached the Professional Soldiery Liaison office on Galatea," Cecilia revealed. "It seems that Colonel Baxter is disenchanted with service to Maximilian Liao and since we were their previous employer they thought first of us." She smiled. "Everyone loves a winner. Only three regiments of them, but at least that's a little easier on the budget."

"This all sounds very good," Tomoe observed from the table. "But what will you do about Alshain District?"

Lyran regiments had landed in force on Sevren and Laurent just after the new year. Both were worlds that Cecilia had taken at the beginning of her campaign to take Tamar and for the very reason that Katrina Steiner - or perhaps merely Selvin Kelswa - coveted them: they were within a single jump of Tamar. Taking them had complicated supplying Lyran forces on the capital of the Tamar Pact, leading to their defeat. Losing those worlds would mean that the LCAF had a direct route to attempt to retake it.

"I won't undermine Grieg Samsonov by trying to micromanage him from here. He's my warlord and deserves better than that. So long as he believes the matter is under control, then it rests in his hands and letting Sorenson and Palmer draw off the Lyran reserves is all I'll do."

"_Tono_, Warlord Samsonov will assure you the situation is under his control no matter what."

"I trust his judgment to this extent: if he believes that the situation has escaped his control then he will be correct, even if he does not choose to reveal that to me. Of course, were he to lie to me about that fact then I will be most upset with him."

The Coordinator, in Shotugama's opinion, was unnecessarily fond of understatement.

Then she held up one finger. "Oh, _Tai-shu_ I may need to borrow the Night Stalkers. I hope that won't be a problem for your deployments."

After taking Bryant, the previous year, the Night Stalkers had been brought back to Pesht, covering for elements of the Pesht Regulars that had been transferred down to Dieron by the same command circuit. While Shotugama's regiments had been replaced in the war upon the Capellan Confederation by two Galedon regiments, it was taking longer for them to return, due to the demands of moving soldiers to face the LCAF.

"I think we can manage," the Warlord agreed. What does she want those hoary veterans for?

**Arcturus, District of Donegal  
Lyran Commonwealth  
3 March 3024**

"I should have stayed in the LCAF," Patrick muttered as he looked at the temporary command centre occupying one of Arcturus' decaying public buildings.

"The Kell Hounds aren't enough for you?" Dan Allard asked jokingly.

The lanky Lieutenant Colonel of the Kell Hounds waved dismissively. "I wouldn't trade the Hounds for the universe but I have to admit, if these clowns are Kat's best then I could have been a Margrave by now."

"Perhaps it's for the best." Both turned in surprise and saw that standing not far from them was Frederick Steiner, commander of the Tenth Lyran Guards and Katrina Steiner's first cousin. In contrast to the Archon's preferred style, Frederick's uniform was liberally decorated with honours and decorations. There was one different between this peacock and those fluttering uselessly around the chamber: Frederick's 'good conduct medals' were almost buried beneath those for valour. "However much good you might do passing canapés at social affairs, if it meant not having the Kell Hounds fighting for us then it's not a deal I want to make."

"I think that that's the nicest thing you've ever said about me, Colonel Steiner."

"You're a fighter. And your brother used to be one too." The brawny colonel seemed indifferent to the anger his remark sparked in the two Kell Hounds. "I may not agree with Katrina on much, but I know good soldiers when I see them."

"Morgan will fight," Patrick assured Steiner. "Count on it."

"We'll see." Without further ado, Fredrick turned and stomped towards a nervous looking logistics officer.

Dan stared after him. "Well he's a barrel of laughs."

"Believe it or not -" For the second time the pair were surprised by someone approaching them from behind. This time it was Morgan Kell. "That was him in a good mood. Give him a military problem and he's a real asset. The trouble has always been his ego, he's got a real blind spot for politics and doesn't realise that."

"Let's hope that he stays in a good mood then." Patrick looked over at the strategic map. It could have been portrayed in an electronic format, but that wouldn't have really conveyed more than the somewhat simplified star chart with pins to represent regiments. The map covered the full frontage of Colmar Theater so at one end were visible clusters of red and blue pins for DCMS and LCAF forces fighting over Sevren and Laurent. There were also red pins on Skokie and Maestu, flanking the advance: blue pins that represented the forces being readied to hit those worlds were visible on Vulcan and Cusset.

At the other end however were the five worlds at the rimwards end of the Theater and all of them had a single red pin marking them. Although Arcturus was in the District of Donegal, the thinness of the Tamar Domains at this point meant that the Legions of Vega that were raising havoc on Lyran worlds were only two jumps from the former capital world. Behind them, Al Hillah and Orestes no longer had blue pins in them and left in the space between the five was the pin representing the Eleventh Pesht Regulars.

"If Yorinaga Kurita strikes at Apostica then he could be here within a fortnight," one of the Generals was asserting. "We must reinforce Apostica to keep him away."

"You're making a mistake," warned Francis Bergma, the commander of the Tharkad Military District. "Although there is a rift with no populated systems for fifty light years between Blue Diamond and Arcturus, Kurita can use unpopulated star systems to recharge his jumpdrives. We need those soldiers here, not swanning off to protect some planet that has nothing of value."

"My family comes from Apostica," the first general spat out.

"And I wonder if that affects your reasoning."

"You're both wrong," Morgan told them calmly. He pointed at contested worlds near Arcturus. "This is a diversion. The Legion of Vega is fixing your attention here while Yorinaga Kurita takes his regiment to the real action, here." He moved his finger towards the Lyran drive towards Tamar. "He's going here and counting on the Legion to keep you from reinforcing the invasion."

Frederick Steiner joined the group. "Why are so sure he's heading for Tamar."

"Because that's where the Kell Hounds are headed."

"Now hold on there Colonel Kell. You're under contract to the Lyran Commonwealth Armed Forces and this is my District," Bergma blustered. "You're not swanning off halfway along the border on your own whim."

"Actually I'm under private contract to the Archon and she's given me complete discretion." Morgan picked up a pointer and worked his way along the Colmar Theater tapping each world. "Biota. Might be able to catch him there if we move fast enough."

"What! What the hell are you talking about?"

Morgan turned away. "He'll raid Biota on the way corewards. It threatens to cut the Theater in half so more reinforcements will be drawn there. You might want to warn the garrison."

"Are we really under hire to the Archon?" Patrick asked casually as they walked out of the command centre.

"That's right."

"Is the pay any good?"

"Expenses, half a kroner and her daughter's hand in marriage."

The other two Kell Hounds stared at Morgan in surprise. "You've got to be kidding me," declared his brother.

"No." Morgan fished around his pockets and produced two quarters, handing them over. "Buy yourself a coffee. I bill her monthly for anything I can't get directly from the government."

"Ah, that infamous note she gave you," Patrick said in understanding. "But really, Melissa? I thought you and Salome..."

"I think it's more that she wants me to introduce Melissa to some boys who aren't dragged to the Royal Court by their parents," Morgan told him. "I agreed she could come stay on Arc Royal for the summer next year." He took a few more paces before realising that Patrick was no longer with him. "Are you alright?" His brother did look rather pale.

"You do realise that Katrina conned you into having the Kell Hounds babysit her little princess for months?"

Now it was time for Morgan's face to fall. "Oh."

"You didn't?"

The Colonel sighed and thrust his hands into his pockets. "Kat's always been sneakier than me, Pat."

Dan snickered and drew deceptively mild looks from both Kells. "I think we'll need a junior officer, one accustomed to royal courts, to play herd for the little hellion."

"That's the daughter of our Archon you're talking about, Pat."

"Am I wrong."

"Well..."

"You're under orders to survive and take care of this," Patrick told the suddenly nervous second son to the Count of Kestrel.

**House Daidachi Complex, Nanking  
Xin Sheng Republic, Free Worlds League  
15 April 3024**

The 'Mech battalion of House Daidachi had not been in the Tikonov Commonality when Gabriel Quinn proclaimed the existence of Xin Sheng Republic, which had made the entire process considerably easier. The Kallon Industries factories on the planet made it possibly the most important world in the Republic though, so the Warrior House had made a beeline for it almost before Chancellor Liao gave them their orders. The prospect of avenging their infantry battalion and support staff may have had some motivational effect.

A _Hunchback_ from the Second Free Worlds League Guards disintegrated as PPC fire from a pair of _Vindicator_ from House Daidachi. Duncan Marik brought the crosshairs of his _Orion_'s gunnery systems to bear and let the more damaged of the pair have a salvo of cannon shells and missiles. The missiles missed but he was satisfied to see that the powerful particle cannon that made up the right arm of his target shattering under the impacts of his autocannon fire.

Tracer fire from behind him betrayed the position of a fire lance from Quinn's Hussars. A pair of brand new _Rifleman_ heavy 'Mechs built on this very factory ripped armour away from the second _Vindicator_ which staggered and fell to the ground once salvos of missiles from the _Catapult_ and _Dervish_ from the rest of the lance struck home.

Marching his battlemech forwards, Duncan fired his lasers and short range missiles into the broken armour of the fallen _Vindicator_s chest, shredding the section that housed the gyro. A mission-kill and the 'Mech would be readily salvageable.

The Capellan mechwarrior didn't seem to agree however and the PPC spat charged particles up and into the shoulder of Duncan's _Orion_. Infuriated, the Captain-General marched forwards and slammed the foot of his 'Mech into the _Vindicator_ again and again until the Capellan stopped moving.

"I think he's stopped fighting back," a voice warned him across the command channel and on stepping back Duncan realised that it was correct and that the _Vindicator_ had stopped moving. Looking around he realised that the rest of his lance had finished off the other _Vindicator_ and the lance from Quinn's Hussars were now bypassing his position to secure the battlefield.

The source of the voice was evident: Quinn's _Grasshopper_, in the blue-trimmed white of her newly formed regiment, was looking down on him from atop the fortifications.

"Madame President," Duncan replied. "I trust that Vandelay's Valkyries have been dealt with." The mercenaries supporting House Daidachi's attack swung around and hit the flank of Duncan's position, which probably would have worked quite well if Quinn hadn't covertly pulled her regiment away from protecting the Kallon Industry sight. As it was, Duncan had to admit that the outnumbered Warrior House's fanatical determination had served them well, driving all the way to the gates of their objective.

Quinn walked her 'Mech off the massive wall and fired her jumpjets to soften the landing. A pair of damaged _Vindicator_s and a _Panther_ followed her. "The Valkyries fought well," the newly appointed President admitted. "However, they do not have the attachment to the Confederation that a less-recently hired force might have had."

"Everyone has to start somewhere," Duncan pointed out wryly. Two of the five regiments he'd brought with him to support the Xin Sheng Republic were mercenaries after all and while the 21st Centauri Lancers had an excellent reputation the same could not be said of Smithson's Chinese Bandits, although the latter had a much longer record. "And eradicating a Warrior House is an impressive start for your Republic."

"I have to admit that I would have more regrets about firing upon a regular regiment." He could imagine the expression of guilty pleasure on her face. "Those at least were my comrades. The Warrior Houses are just Liao's faithful dogs."

"Does that make the Death Commandos his rottweilers?" asked Duncan.

"No." Quinn's voice was serious. "Death Commandoes are far more dangerous than that. The Warrior Houses would kill anyone outside their House that the Chancellor told them to. The Death Commandos? They'd would kill themselves or their families if he asked it of them."

Duncan nodded slowly inside his cockpit. "And you think you're after you?"

Quinn laughed bitterly. "Captain-General -"

"Please, call me Duncan."

"Duncan, then." She smiled despite herself. "I don't _think_ that he's sent them after me. I _know_ that he has. I betrayed him and he's not hard to predict. Maskirova operatives have already been captured so he will use his ultimate sanction." Quinn blinked as she saw a light on her panel. "Excuse me: I have an urgent signal."

Seeing the message was from the planetary defense net a chill went through her as she changed channel. "This is Gabriel Quinn."

"Madame President, we're picking up jumpships arriving at a pirate point. Three of them, all Invader-class and all fully loaded. There are nine dropships burning in for the Kallon Industries site. ETA is nine hours."

Quinn's throat seized up and it took her a moment before she was confident she would be speaking like a commander and not a scared little girl. "Do we have any identification?"

"We have partial match." The officer sounded nervous. "Madame President, this may be the Wolf Dragoons."

It might be the first time that anyone had responded to those words with relief. Quinn almost laughed. "Alright then. Notify all commands. Get me an update in three hours."

"Yes ma'am," the man replied, sounding grateful that she didn't seem bothered. Which now that it was sinking in, Quinn was bothered by. But at least it was 'only' one of the most elite mercenary units in the Inner Sphere and not a bunch of hardened killers with no agenda beyond collecting her head. And they were heading for...

Her strategic sense caught up with her self-preservation and bludgeoned it with duty. Regimental Command Channel: "Colonel Quinn to all battalion and company commanders: assemble your units and move out for the railhead, urgently." She then switched to the brigade channel. "Captain-General -"

"Uh-uh." He said playfully,

"_Duncan_." There was a time and a place for playfulness, even if she liked that side of him. "The Wolf Dragoons are in-system. They'll be at the Kallon compound by sundown."

He sobered immediately. "How long will it take us to get there?"

"Longer than that." Their dropships had been dispatched to Zurich to shift another portion of their patchwork defenses around the Republic, so the monorail that snaked across thousands of miles of Nanking's largest continent was their best route to the factories. "Can your aerospace element back mine up?"

"Absolutely." The Second Guards' aero wing was reinforced, but it was also almost entirely made up of _Cheetah_ interceptors. They'd be almost useless in an attack on the incoming dropships but they could fly cover for the Xin Sheng's _Transit_ attack fighters. "What sort of numbers are we dealing with?"

"At the moment, all we know is that there are nine dropships. A secondary mission for the aerospace strike will be information gathering."

**FSS **_**Camelot**_**, Nadir Jump Point,  
New Aragorn, Federated Suns  
22 April 3024**

The Capellan jumpship looked fragile as it hung under the guns of two smaller but predatory assault ships. The shuttle had flown past both vessels and then past the _Leopard_ dropship that carried half of the little task group's aerospace fighters before reaching its destination at one of the flight decks that made the _Camelot_ so useful to Hanse Davion when he was moving around his realm.

"Welcome to the soil of the Federated Sun," Hanse said in greeting as Duke Hargreaves disembarked from the pod. Then he looked down at the metal deck. "Well, figuratively."

"I'm sure that some would say I've been on Federated Suns soil for more than half a year now." Algot and Holloran V were the only two planets gained by the Chancellor's ill-fated offensive that were still in Capellan hands. It had rather surprised Victor Hargreaves that Davion had decided to launch an attack upon New Hessen rather than his own tiny Commonality.

"Until my soldiers have their boots on that soil once more, I will not agree with those assertions."

Hargreaves grimaced. "Now there's an ominous word: until."

He was met with a smile from Hanse. "It could be. Why don't we sit down and see if we can find an alternative."

It was extraordinary how much space there was on an Overlord dropship once some of the battlemech bays had been replaced. Some of the space had been used for a comfortable conference room that was so tastefully set up that you could almost not tell that it was a dropship compartment.

Olivia Fenlon was waiting for them, something that gave Hargreaves a moment's pause. "Prefect Hargreaves."

"Minister Fenlon," he replied, implicitly accepting an avoidance of the awkward fact they had conflicting claims to the ducal title of Chesterton.

Hanse sat down at the table and produced a small metal cylinder from his pocket. "Cigar?"

Blinking, Hargreaves accepted the small package. "I didn't think you smoked. Ah... of course, this is tradition."

"Absolutely," Hanse agreed. "Gaelle Yvonne Davion, born exactly four weeks ago today."

"Congratulations. Although your wife obviously did the hard work." Hargreaves began unwrapping the cigar. "So, Hanse Davion. Your emissaries have been very convincing, thus my presence here which the Chancellor would doubtless consider to be treasonous."

"Let's be frank: you're as close to opposition as Maximilian Liao has been willing to tolerate since he overthrew his father. And every setback he suffers is reducing that tolerance. MIIO figured the odds were even that you would be executed after Tormano's death. Now that Romano is dead, the chances of surviving any disagreement with him are much lower."

The Duke discarded the wrapper and started looking around for something to trim away the end of the cigar. "The chances of surviving treason are also lower. It's no secret that the Chancellor has not only condemned Gabriel Quinn to death _in absentia_, but also unleashed the Death Commandos without limits to carry out that sentence."

Hanse nodded. "It's interesting though that Quinn's message has found ready listeners. Her Xin Sheng Republic couldn't have been formed unless a number of your people and their leaders agreed with the idea of creating a new realm that preserves the essence of the Capellan culture and government without the tyranny of House Liao. Obviously she believes that this worth the risk to her own life."

"Quinn is young."

"She's three years older than I am," Hanse pointed out.

Hargreaves shook his head. "Your highness, you are also young."

"You're right. I'm young. Cecilia Kurita and Duncan Marik are also young. Age doesn't seem to be doing Maximilian very much good."

"Hmm." Hargreaves chewed on his moustaches. "You have a point." He held up the cigar. "So why don't you find me a light for this and then tell me what you suggest."

A lighter was found and Hargreaves puffed on the cigar as Hanse brought up a map on a display built into the table. "The Tikonov Commonality is collapsing," he pointed out. "Both my Federated Suns and the Draconis Combine have overrun large sections and now the core of what remains is in open rebellion against House Liao. What remains is a web of worlds that's strung out and in a poor strategic position to resist as they are overrun and fought over. And I do include your Chesterton Commonality among those."

He tapped a control and the map shifted to mark out the various zones of control. From the Capellan perspective it was a grim display.

"We both know how damaging fighting over those worlds will be. What I'm proposing is that we work together to minimise that. Using the regiments under your control and your authority as part of the Prefectorate, you could secure worlds between your own Commonality and the Xin Sheng Republic. All my reports indicate that the leaders of those worlds would be glad to have a firm hand in control with the loss of the Tikonov administration."

"I know that you have advocated seeking a compromise with me and been turned down by the Chancellor. I'm prepared to offer you a compromise, albeit one that favours me: incorporation into the Federated Suns as a self-governing district. No carpetbaggers sweeping in to take over and oust your people, just a peaceful transition with the inhabitants enjoying the full rights as citizens of the Federated Suns. You know that the alternative is incorporation by military force and probably years of occupation."

"You're asking me to betray the oaths that I've sworn to the Chancellor."

"We're asking you to uphold the oaths that you swore to the people of the Confederation." Olivia leant forwards and adjusted the map again, a new polity springing into being, connecting the Federated Suns to the Xin Sheng Republic. "Half a dozen worlds and billions of people spared the ravages of war. Almost a dozen more will realise that there is no chance of the Confederation returning and they will come to the negotiation table. We're certain that the Coordinator will be glad to avoid a costly campaign in the area, particularly when she has another war on her hands."

Hargreaves took the cigar from his lips. "And all I have to give up is my honour."

There was no false sympathy on Hanse's face. "There are many forms of honour, Prefect."

**RSS **_**Jade Tears**_**, Nanking  
Draconis Combine  
3 May 3024**

Duncan Marik wrapped one arm around Gabriel Quinn's shoulders as they watched Nanking diminish on the screens behind them. Defeat hurt.

The Dragoons had brought enough fighters with them to keep the skies contested during their run in. Fortunately, contested meant that they hadn't been successful in using their fighters to break up the monorail and leave the defenders scattered across half the continent, exposed to defeat in detail.

However, militia forces around the Kallon Industries complex had been driven off or shattered by the Dragoons' Gamma Regiment, while Jaime Wolf's own Alpha Regiment had driven back Quinn's vanguard back in disarray. The combined forces had never quite reclaimed the initiative, scrambling back from one defensive position to another. Duncan had lost his _Orion_ in a nameless river valley and only the valiant sacrifice of a company of _Galleon_ light tanks that had no business ever trying to hold off heavy 'Mechs had kept him from capture.

A week later he'd been back in the cockpit, this time of a patched together _Wolverine_, when Quinn's _Grasshopper_ lost an arm dueling against a Dragoon' _Archer_ and led a charge to push back what was later determined to be the command company of the entire mercenary force. After that, Jaime Wolf had elected to rotate his forces, bringing forwards fresh elements of Gamma Regiment, but that was a luxury that Duncan and Quinn didn't have. Fortunately, a flotilla of jumpships had arrived in time with the necessary dropships to evacuate their remaining forces and most of the upper echelons of Nanking's leadership.

"I shouldn't have left the factories so lightly guarded," Quinn murmured.

"There wasn't a great deal of choice." Duncan saw clouds forming over the former holding of House Daidachi. It looked as if they were in for some fierce weather. "I hate to say it, but against Wolf's Dragoons we might have been doing well to withdraw with our forces mostly intact. We can reinforce Hsien, Arboris or Acamar - they must be stretched thin to be hitting four worlds at once."

"Or we could let the other regiments bog them down and take Styk."

"Styk?" Duncan blinked. The world was in the Sarna Commonality, on the far side of the Xin Sheng Republic, and the principal staging post for Capellan forces striking into the Republic. "Ah, the Tao MechWorks."

"Exactly." Quinn's arm had somehow wound up around Duncan's side. "It isn't quite as good as Kallon, but it will help our logistics and simplify our front with Liao's worlds." She called them that, he noticed, not the Capellan Confederation. "That will free up resources to fight off the Dragoons."

"I like the way you think." He was a little too used to thinking of his rear being secured by the bulk of the Free Worlds League, but moving troops from one side of the Xin Sheng Republic to the other would take only a couple of weeks. The... cross-pollination of thinking between the FWLM and the new province's regiments would doubtless be interesting.

And speaking of cross-pollination... the Captain-General was rather aware that the President who was pressed against him was also a rather attractive woman.

"It'll be a few days before we reach the jumpships. Do you have any plans in the meantime?"

"Well given the rather cultured surroundings we're enjoying, dinner and dancing aren't really an option..."

The dropship wasn't really the most romantic of locations, Duncan had to admit. The rush of evacuation meant they were actually on a tank transport, secondary holds of the _Triumph_ class dropship reconfigured hastily to carry both command lances.

"...so why don't we just go back to my stateroom."

Wait, what?

"Too sudden for you?" Quinn asked, suddenly concerned she had misinterpreted his intentions.

Duncan leant down and kissed her. "Not at all."

**Biota, Colmar Theater  
Lyran Commonwealth  
7 May 3024**

They'd reached Biota too late.

The dropship port that the Kell Hounds landed at was a wreck, with salvage crews sifting carefully through ruined buildings for salvageable equipment. Some of the crews were being assisted by Battlemechs that had obviously been hastily repaired to supplement the diminished number of labour mechs.

"Well at least some of the Waco Rangers survived."

Akira Kurita looked at the battered examples. "Maybe you check that they aren't the only ones left," he suggested mildly as his _Panther_ followed Dan Allard's _Valkyrie_ out of the Manannon Mac Lir and onto the concrete of the landing pad. The Leopard-class dropship had done a flyover of the Ranger's base before landing and it was in even worse shape. At least here some sort of repairs were being made.

The battlemechs had drawn themselves together and were positioned to defend themselves if they came under attack by the new arrivals. Given that the Kell Hounds had enough dropships to land all four companies of Patrick Kell's First Battalion in combat readiness, with Morgan's Second Battalion and the infantry aboard a pair of freight dropships behind them, it wasn't the most fearsome of displays, but at least they would have put up a fight.

Dan moved his _Valkyrie_ closer to them, careful to keep his targeting system from locking on. He raised the left hand of his Mech in salute. "Captain Allard, of the Kell Hounds. I take it we're still behind the Pesht Regulars?"

The largest Mech, an _Awesome_ with a right arm that looked as if it belonged on a _Thunderbolt_ - a recent repair job if Akira didn't miss his guess - returned the salute. "Major Keller of the Waco Rangers. Yeah, you're a day late and a dollar short, Kell Hound."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dan said sincerely. "Did you at least get some warning?"

"Some, yes." Keller's voice softened. "If that came from you, then I guess I should thank you. We were going to have our assault battalion training down on the south continent - if we hadn't recalled them then Kurita's regiment would have ripped the rest of us apart without breaking stride."

Akira moved forward to stand beside Dan. "You're sure that it was Yorinaga Kurita?"

"A red _Warhammer_ that no one can get a clear lock on? Oh yes, that bastard was unmistakable. And surrounded by grey and white Mechs so that he stands out... I built up a lot of heat trying to put him down. Only hit him twice and got my arm blown off." Keller fell silent for a moment before adding: "If Colonel Waco hadn't taken him on, I'd probably be dead - or at least dispossessed."

"Where is the Colonel, sir? I'm sure Colonel Kell will want to speak to him."

The laugh he heard in response was bitter. "My colonel is dead, Captain Allard. He punched out about a second before his ammo-bins went up and one of his damn samurai picked him off with a machinegun before he was back on the ground. I guess that that was all that they wanted though because they let us break contact after that."

Akira grimaced. The Dicta Honorium made few provisions for taking prisoners and he could easily think of samurai would think shooting down an ejected mechwarrior to be nothing but the efficient dispatch of a defeated foe. However he didn't like the idea personally and was uneasy with the notion his father might have done so - or at least have permitted one of his subordinates to have done so. Perhaps he had withdrawn in order to prevent further actions by his overeager soldiers. If rumour was correct, many of the mechwarriors in the Eleventh Pesht Regulars were fresh from the Sun Zhang Academy Cadres.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Dan said - more out of politeness than anything else as the Waco Rangers had started out as a Liao regiment and seen mercenary service against his native Federated Suns. "Are you the senior officer then?"

"Until Paulus Noble gets out of hospital," Keller agreed grudgingly. "I suppose you want me to talk to Kell then."

"If your responsibilities permit." Dan looked at the devastation caused. The Waco Rangers did have a decent reputation, albeit as deep raiders rather than as defensive troops. But a comparatively green regiment of Pesht Regulars had torn them apart with what sounded like ease.

And there was a growing inevitability to the notion that the Kell Hounds were going to face them next.

**Lake Abdoran, Maladar  
St Ives Commonality, Capellan Confederation  
12 May 3024**

This was the best part of war, Morgan Hasek-Davion thought as his _Battlemaster_ marched along the narrow road that threaded between the rugged cliffs and the lake. The setting reminded him somewhat of the near legendary tales of Thermopylae, roughly three and a half millennia ago. There was no crack force of Spartans blocking this road however, only two ambush teams from the planetary militia that had been located and cleared by reconnaissance teams hours before.

Ahead of him, Morgan could see a great arc of the road as it went around a bay, the company ahead of him and then the trailing company of the previous battalion in view: twenty-one Battlemechs in camouflage paint with just a touch of red, white and blue to mark them as part of House Davion's Brigade of Guards. The water reflected their images with almost mirror-like precision. The view was breathtaking to the young Captain, as was the knowledge that the ten Battlemechs behind him in the column were under his command.

The battlemechs were not the only troops in evidence of course: between the two battalion groups was a trail of armoured personnel carriers and light tanks, while scout helicopters moved overhead, alert for the possibility of a sneak attack. Almost dead-centre of the bay, one of the latter was hovering only a few dozen yards above the lake, dangling a sonar probe in the water to check for battlemechs under the water.

"Hey, Captain, isn't that your old man?" The voice of Ian duPuys drew Morgan's attention from the surroundings as they marched along the arc towards the back of the bay.

Startled, the young officer looked around. "What? Where?"

From his place third in line, the Sergeant Major raised the arm of his _Rifleman_ and pointed in the direction of a hill overlooking the bay, knowing that the compressed wrap-around view of Morgan's cockpit would let him see the gesture.

Following the line indicated, Morgan spotted a small cluster of battlemechs on the hill, all four eschewing mottled camouflage for a solid dark green suited to the parade ground: the colours of the Syrtis Fusiliers. One of those 'Mechs was a _Marauder_ and by zooming in it could be told that where all four battlemechs had the All-Seeing Eye that represented New Syrtis, this heavy 'Mech superimposed the Lion of the Hasek family. "You're right, it is." The young man shook his head, feeling his long red hair moving inside his neurohelmet. "He hasn't been on a battlefield since before I was born."

"Well if he wants to play the conquering Mechwarrior I suppose he has the right."

Morgan couldn't help but agree as they walked closer to the hill. The St Ives Commonality of the Capellan Confederation had been depleted by years of fighting and what remained was an uneven horseshoe of worlds with the capital at the tip of the shorter arm while the longer arm jutted into the Capellan March between the Sirdar and Alcyone PDZs.

By landing troops on Ambergrist, Tantara and here on Maladar, Michael Hasek-Davion had cut clean across that longer arm. The four systems cut off could still be reached by Capellan ships of course, but they lacked a secure route and the moral impact was undeniable. Second wave troops were already en route to two of them although no reports had arrived yet of landings. A second Davion Guards RCT - the Assault Guards - would be spearheading the attack on Texlos, home to one of the Capellan's remaining aerospace fighter factories; and the Capellan Dragoons were heading for Teng, at the tip of the Capellan salient.

"It's certainly a triumph," Morgan agreed with feigned enthusiasm. It wasn't that he doubted the accomplishment, more...

As ever, the elder Hasek-Davion was a source of mixed feelings for his only child. It had been ten years since the first break in the relationship, over a chess game of all things. Years spent on New Avalon rather than New Syrtis had widened the breach and Morgan couldn't help but feel suspicious about Michael's attempts to cross that gulf - or avoid feeling guilty about this suspicion.

"Give the Duke a salute as we pass," he ordered, seeing some of the vehicle crews popping out of cupolas to do so.

As the column approached the hill, they were blocked from sight of the summit briefly and when Morgan caught sight of his father again, the _Marauder_ had moved to the edge of the hill, overlooking the road from the top of a high slope. He's probably spotted my 'Mech, he thought. The _Battlemaster_ was brand new, purchased at considerable expense (in bribes for permits) from the Lyran factor on Pandora and shipped hundreds of light years so that the Duke could give his son an ride equal to that of the First Prince. It would be easily recognisable.

In case his father had anything to say to him, Morgan set one of his secondary communications channels to a private one that they had used when he was trying the _Battlemaster_ out on one of the NAIS training ranges the previous year.

It wouldn't have surprised him to hear nothing but an impassive silence but what he picked up was neither that nor any words of support or congratulations. No, what he heard was a deep gasping for air, the fearful rasp of a man in the midst of panic.

The sound was so out of place in the quiet of an uncontested route march that Morgan was unable to wrap his head around it. Reflexively he raised his 'Mech's right arm is salute and with relief saw the right arm of the _Marauder_ jerk upwards in reply.

So father is alright. Who is breathing into the channel like th-?

Morgan's world dissolved into fire and pain in a single inexplicable instant.

He could not have guessed how much later it was that he regained his wits. He was still strapped to his command couch but from the angle, his Mech was lying on its front, shoulders lower than hips. In front of him water was pooling on the inside of the canopy.

All of this was rather secondary to the pain in his face and shoulders. With an agonised gasp he brought his hands up to his chin and fumbled with the straps of his neurohelmet. Blood ran along his right arm as he worked, fingers fumbling with what should have had the ease of familiarity.

The strap came free and Morgan yanked the helmet off his head, screaming in shock and further pain as parts of his flesh went with it. The smell of burnt flesh was overpowering and he felt fresh blood running down onto his chest as he vomited into the water.

Fighting through the waves of pain, the young Captain disconnected the rest of his gear from the command couch before hitting the emergency release for the safety straps. Intending to catching himself on the control console, he missed and fell face first into the dirty water. Warmed by the hot metal that had been plunged into the late, the water didn't even numb his torn and burned flesh.

The hatch out of the cockpit had been warped, but given the existing damage to the canopy Morgan was able to kick sections of the holed-armourglass out of their frame and exit in that manner, swimming down just far enough to clear the cockpit and then surfacing above the submerged shoulder of his _Battlemaster_. As he scrambled for handholds on the wet metal plates, he saw his father's _Marauder_ sprawled on the hillside. One leg had been shot away and a _Phoenix Hawk_ in Davion Guards camouflage was pinning the other to the floor. A _Warhammer_ in the parade-green of the Syrtis Fusiliers was sprawled half on top of the heavy Mech, restraining the arms and the autocannon.

Confused and in pain, Morgan collapsed as a _Valkyrie_ began wading carefully into the water towards him.

**AFFS Field Hospital, Maladar,  
St Ives Commonality, Capellan Confederation  
13 May 3024**

The sharp pain of a needle roused Morgan from a medical stupor. Opening bleary eyes he saw a man in the uniform of a medical assistant drawing blood.

"Wh-what happened?" he croaked.

The man didn't reply immediately, withdrawing the needle and then capping it professionally. "You're in the hospital, Captain. I'm not sure exactly what happened but you're going to be okay. Just relax and I'll send for someone to fill you in."

Slightly reassured, Morgan closed his eyes. It took him a moment to recollect the earlier events and then he jerked upright, or at least tried to. What had happened to his father? His progress was stalled by the unwelcome discovery that restraints were wrapped around him, rendering him unable to sit, much less get out of the bed.

Alarmed, he began to thrash violently and felt the lightweight field-cot rock. It was at this point that a familiar face entered the room.

"Whoa! Morgan, stop that! You'll reopen your wounds!" Nathaniel Hasek exclaimed, rushing over to steady the bed. Square jawed with his dark hair cropped short, only the muscular frame betrayed the kinship between the two men: although only a few years older than Morgan, Nathaniel was Michael Hasek-Davion's first cousin and well known to the other man.

"What's going on? Why am I tied down? Where's my father?"

"Just..." Nathaniel grabbed the cot. "Hold still a moment and I'll take these off. They had to airlift you here and they didn't want you falling out of bed."

Grudgingly Morgan ceased to strain at the straps and Nathaniel was as good as his word, undoing the buckles. "Don't get up, okay? You took a real pounding and you've still got a lot of drugs in your system." He slumped back onto the tent's other cot and sighed. "Right, what do you remember?"

"I was saluting Father. Next thing I know my 'Mech's in the lake and I'm..." Morgan grimaced, barely able to feel his face beyond the fact that it was heavily bandaged.

"Your 'Mech took a PPC to the head. Burned straight through the armour, wrecked a good number of systems... melted a big chunk of your neurohelmet. If you'd been a touch closer or at a different angle..." The other Captain shrugged. "Don't play cards any time soon - you used up a lifetime's luck just being alive right now."

"And father?"

Nathaniel's jaw worked. "We're not sure exactly. But it was his 'Mech that fired the shot. He's... he's here." Then he circled his finger around his ear. "But not _here_ if you get my meaning. He had to be restrained. As soon as we find one, he's going in a straitjacket."

Morgan shook his head in disbelief. "But... why would he shoot at me?"

"That's..." Whatever it was, Nathaniel was reluctant to voice it and before Morgan could press the issue he stood abruptly. "Look, give me two minutes."

He turned and walked to the entrance of the tent. "Well?"

Whoever was there replied in a low voice, one that was unclear to Morgan. To his surprise, Nathaniel seemed to grow even tenser as he turned back to him.

"Morgan, I've got some bad news."

"Is he..."

"Just..." He swallowed. "When we brought you and Michael here we did some tests. Now we both know that you are Michael Hasek-Davion's son. But the tests came up that you weren't even related. They just compared your blood work and his to mine and they're pretty sure just off a preliminary test that we're close kin. Which raises the question of who was in your father's Mech?"

Morgan paled. "You're wrong."

"What?"

"The real question is: where is my father?"

"I don't know."

Morgan rolled painfully, trying to get his feet under him as he left the bed. They didn't co-operate and only Nathaniel's quick reflexes kept him from crashing to the floor. Clutching his cousin's shoulders, Morgan grated: "Then find the hell out!"

**Sian, Sian Commonality  
Capellan Confederation  
19 June 3024**

Maximilian Liao and Chandra Ling were discussing the information taken from their new and most informative source of data. While the source was a veritable cornucopia of inside information about the Federated Suns, very little of it was operationally useful. Nor was it sufficient to moderate Liao's anger at the attack on the St Ives Compact.

Losing seven worlds to a Duke of New Syrtis who was supposed to be completely neutralised was unacceptable.

Still, there _was_ useful information as a result of the operation and Director Ling had been _most efficient_ in ensuring that there was no one who would be _quite_ so effective in her role. And so for now Chandra Ling continued to head the Maskirova despite the official displeasure of the Chancellor.

Liao was therefore not in a good mood when the door to the chamber opened to admit his wife. "Celestial Wisdom," Elizabeth Liao greeted him, a grave look upon her face. "I apologise for disturbing you, but there is a matter that requires your immediate attention."

"What fresh burden does the universe place on my shoulders now?" he demanded, rising to his feet and striding towards the door. Waiting there was Colonel Pavel Ridzik, accompanied by a squad of the Red Lancer's attached infantry: assigned security roles around the palace in the absence of the Death Commandos. It was not lost upon the Liao patriarch that the soldiers were positioned to secure two people: a hapless looking young officer and his fuming daughter.

"My apologies that this matter disturbs you, Celestial Wisdom," Ridzik said in greeting. "But it would be the utmost presumption for me to decide this matter."

"Explain yourself!"

Ridzik gestured sharply to the sweating young man. "Repeat your report, Commander."

Drawing himself up and fixing his eyes upon the ceiling of the room, he obeyed. "Sir, on the arrival of Duchess Liao for this afternoon's strategy session, her attaché case was taken through the security scanner before she was admitted."

"Are you suggesting that my own heir is a security risk!" The Chancellor's face purposed. "You pathetic worm, how dare you! And you, Ridzik, should know -"

"Dear," Elizabeth slipped her hand gently into that of her husband. "Please. Let the Commander finish his report."

Somewhat mollified, Liao nodded sharply.

"Sir, I acknowledge the error and accept full responsibility for examining the Duchess's attaché case. However, that examination showed that the case contains a concealed weapon."

"Surely you must be mistaken." However, Maximilian's words lacked conviction. No one in the room could be unaware that he had seized power from his own father in a sudden coup only a few years after Candace's birth.

"Father, this is outrageous. There is no weapon and this is a threadbare attempt by that person to embarrass me," Candace accused, glaring daggers at her stepmother.

Liao held his hand out for the case. "This is easy to determine," he observed and opened the case. Upending it carelessly, he tipped the papers out on the floor and ran his hand around the insides. "I feel something in the lining," he admitted. "Colonel Ridzik, provide me with a sharp blade."

Armed with a bayonet from one of the guards, the Chancellor sliced through the layers of silk used to cushion the contents of the case. It only took him a moment to produce a small pistol. It was a simple little thing - so small that it almost disappeared in his grip. With no evident means of reloading the weapon other than disassembling it, there was no doubt that it was a weapon of assassination.

"Interfering in the business of your superiors could earn you a death sentence," he told the Commander. "On the other hand, saving my life merits a reward." He gestured towards Ridzik. "Colonel, award this man the Grand Cordon of Merit..."

The soldiers knees were visibly slack with relief when the Chancellor finished the sentence with calculated cruelty. "...posthumously."

The senior officer of the CCAF didn't bat an eyelid at the capricious order. "Of course, Celestial Wisdom. And your daughter?"

"Ah yes." Maximilian Liao walked over to his now pale daughter. "Daughter, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I have no knowledge of that weapon," she asserted. "It must have been planted there."

He chuckled coldly and held it up. "Hardly a weapon. Why it's nothing more than a toy." And then he extended his arm so that the muzzle was pointed at the bridge of Candace's nose. "Bang!" Then he lifted the gun. "You see? Nothing happened!"

He glanced around at the audience who were wide eyed at this bizarre behavior. "That was a joke," he snapped. "Lock her up with the other fellow and shoot them together in the morning."

"Father!" Candace would have continued to protest but the Chancellor turned his back abruptly and walked back into his meeting. The Duchess turned then towards Elizabeth Liao and Pavel Ridzik, who were looking at the Chancellor's departing back. "You did this," she hissed, glaring at her stepmother.

Elizabeth shook her head. "Not my style, dear."

"Take her away," Ridzik ordered.

Candace Liao shook off the hands of the soldiers who made to take her arms. "I know the way," she spat and stalked away, surrounded by watchful guards, wrapping the last shreds of her dignity around herself. Unless her father changed his mind overnight, it was all that she had left.

Left alone in the room, Elizabeth and Ridzik exchanged glances. "Is the Chancellor... well?"

"He is under a considerable amount of stress," the First Lady of the Confederation replied equably. "There are certain medications that help him to rest."

Ridzik smiled. "It is a great relief to know that the Chancellor's health is in good hands, Lady Elizabeth."

"One does one's humble best to care for him. I gather that you will be departing tomorrow for Grand Base?"

"Yes. Someone has to take charge of the defense of Betelgeuse. My dropship leaves in the afternoon. Please do not be alarmed however. The command of Sian's defenses is in the hands of Colonel Abermarle and she is quite devoted to her duty of protecting the Chancellor's family."

The two parted ways, exchanging looks of tacit understanding.


	9. Finale

**Tamar, Radstadt Prefecture  
Alshain District, Draconis Combine  
20 June 3024**

A flight of DCMS helicopters zipped across the Lyran positions, underslung particle cannons ripping armour away from 'Mechs and tanks. One of the helicopters dropped into a death-spiral as autocannon and missile launchers reached up and tore the rotor to pieces. Dan Allard saw the cockpit break away and deploy a parachute so the two man crew had probably survived.

Dan had not been among those firing. The Kell Hounds had been ordered not to expend munitions against the probing attacks they had been subjected to since landing, leaving their air defenses limited to lasers and their own PPCs. As a result they hadn't managed to bring down many of the helicopters or the hovercraft that were pulling similar hit and run attacks. On the other hand, as if put out that the mercenaries weren't playing, the DCMS crews were directing noticeably less effort against them in comparison to the Tamar Tigers, who were returning fire with enthusiasm.

"It's a very economical mode of warfare," Akira Kurita noted, lowering his PPC - he hadn't fired, since neither helicopter had strayed into range. "At the expense of perhaps two dozen helicopters lost so far, the DCMS has forced the Tigers to use up hundreds of tons of supplies repairing battle damage and reloading battlemechs, while his own heavy forces remain untouched. On the other hand, we are still advancing steadily towards the capital city."

The initial landings on Tamar had been a month before, spearheaded by Duke Kelswa's Tamar Tigers and the Hsien Hotheads mercenary regiment. The bulk of the conventional forces had arrived along with the Third Donegal Guards and the arrival of the Kell Hounds in early June had been the extent of what Katrina Steiner was willing to commit to the operation - although four regiments was certainly a respectable force.

Opposing them had been the Fifth Sword of Light under Warlord Samsonov himself and one of the Legions of Vega, as well as a formidable number of infantry and armoured regiments. It was the Legion - Vega-juuyon or the Fourteenth Legion of Vega as most of the LCAF that was providing most of the harrying forces on the Lyran advance.

And the Eleventh Pesht Regulars?

Since their dropships had landed, no one had seen a sign of them. And that worried the Kell Hounds more than anything because it was not what they had expected from Yorinaga Kurita.

"They'll move to block us," Dan answered his companion. Although technically Akira had the rank to command a company, everyone realised it would take time for the other Kell Hounds to get used to having a Kurita among them so he had been appointed as deputy commander of Dan's company. "You know the doctrine better than I do - they're going to hit us hard and fast. The only question is where and when."

"It is... possible," Akira admitted hesitantly, "That they are hampered in their command structure. _Tai-Shu_ Samsonov is a proud man who has faced many reversals this year. The presence of my father will complicate matters."

"Well he outranks your father... I'm being naive here, aren't I?"

"It is true that the Warlord has the advantage of rank but my father is a Kurita and the Warlord must consider the possibility that Cecilia-_tono_ sent him there to be well placed to replace _Tai-shu_ Samsonov as Warlord should that become necessary." He looked for a word. "I am sure that their interaction is very... polite."

Dan grimaced in understanding. "I see. Still, if they don't get their act together we'll be marching into the capital unopposed. Something tells me that your Coordinator wouldn't like that."

"Oh? What gives you that impression?"

"She's a Kurita."

The younger mechwarrior laughed. "You make a good point. Still -"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off when Fitzpatrick's _Shilone_ rocketed overhead, wings waggling.

"Trouble's coming." Dan punched in the battalion command channel. "Patrick, Fitzpatrick just blazed past us and he's practically flapping morse code with his wings."

Another pair of _Shilone_'s blasted past them, apparently missing the two battlemechs. While the Kell Hound fighter had their usual mix of red and black, these two had unleavened red and a flaming sword was painted under one wing: the Sword of Light.

"We got aerospace fighters," Dan added to his warning. He snapped back to the company channel without waiting for acknowledgement but was pleased to find that they were already snapping to full readiness under Akira's orders. "You're going to put me out of a job," he warned jokingly and glanced around. The Tamar Tigers were forming the most archetypal of Lyran formations: a line abreast that was anchored by the Kell Hounds on their flanks. "First Company, we're moving forwards. We need to find the Dracs before they run into us. Keep your eyes and ears wide open."

Fanning out, the twelve light and medium battlemechs marched into the rugged hills.

**Sian, Sian Commonality  
Capellan Confederation  
21 June 3024**

"Noble representatives of the Sheng and of the Barduc, I stand before you with grave news."

It was by no means the first time that Elizabeth Liao had spoken before the House of Scions. It was, she was deeply aware, perhaps the most important occasion so far.

"Many of you will be aware that only two days ago, your beloved Chancellor Maximilian Liao was forced by the weight of evidence against her to order the execution of Duchess Candace Liao for the crime of conspiracy to seize control of the Confederation." She lowered her eyes towards the podium she stood behind in feigned regret. "As you will all understand, the strain of such a betrayal heightened immeasurably the unrelenting pressure upon my husband. It is with grave regret that I must report that while alone in his office yesterday, the Chancellor collapsed and was not discovered for some time."

She raised her eyes once more, seeing looks of concern upon the two hundred-strong House of Scions. Some were carefully feigned, no doubt - Maximilian had utilised the dictatorial authority of his office relentlessly. Others - his supporters - were genuinely worried, if only for their own power and perquisites. "Fortunately, he was discovered in the evening and the palace physicians assure me that he is in a stable condition. However, the Chancellor remains comatose and there is no certainty as to when he will awaken. In these dangerous times, the ship of the state is without a helmsman."

There was a long empty silence and Elizabeth allowed the tension to rack up before continuing.

"Early this morning, a meeting of the Prefectorate unanimously agreed that I will be acting as Regent for the duration of my husband's incapacity." That meeting had been quite simple to arrange: with Romano and Candace dead, Maximilian comatose and Victor Hargreaves absent from Sian there were only two Prefects: Elizabeth herself and Chandra Ling. Given that Elizabeth had entirely genuine documents confirming that she had her husband's proxy - intended for an absence from Sian, but valid none the less - as Prefect, she had a majority vote all on her own and Ling had wisely not contested her decisions.

"My first decision as Regent is with regard to the Prefectorate. It is obvious, of course, that two seats have been left vacant due to deaths in the current war. However in both cases these seats represent Commonalities that are much depleted in size as a result of that same war. It is therefore my decree that the Commonality of Tikonov be dissolved and its administration and government be vested upon the Commonality and Prefect of Chesterton. It is also my decree that the Commonality of St Ives be dissolved and its administration and government be vested upon the Commonality and Prefect of Capella."

"Finally, because the current size grants it disproportionate influence, I order the division of the Sian Commonality with the worlds rimwards of and including Grand Base and Kasdach joining into a new Commonality." Elizabeth leant forwards. "I would like to place before the House of Scions the nomination of Colonel Pavel Ridzik, Lord of Grand Base and the current Military Director as Prefect for this new Commonality."

The Lama of Preston, one of Elizabeth's own supporters within the House of Scions rose to his feet. "I second the nomination and move that Lord Ridzik be elected by acclamation."

A torrent of opposition failed to materialise and one by one the members began to clap their hands until all those present were indicating approval either out of a sincere desire to support the new Regent or a sincere desire not to be seen to be in opposition to her.

"I thank you for your support," Elizabeth told them, bowing her head to indicate humility. "I have two further announcements to make today, of policies that it is my intention to pursue."

"Firstly it is my intention to restore the capital of the Capellan Confederation to its birthplace: the planet of Capella."

There was no opposition to that, and with good reason. Capella was not only the centre of Elizabeth Liao's personal holdings and powerbase, it was also the traditional seat of the House of Scions. The symbolic move suggested that the balance of power between House, Prefectorate and Chancellor might be shifting in their favour. More pragmatically, the inevitable strains of such a reorganisation would allow Elizabeth to carry out a few quiet adjustments to the ministries.

Maximilian would be furious to learn of this, but Elizabeth was quite certain that in the unlikely event that the physicians managed to bring in out of the coma then the same poisons she had used to induce it would have crippled his higher faculties. Even awake he would be no challenge to her authority.

"Secondly," she announced. "It is my intention to pursue peace negotiations with Hanse Davion. Let the other Houses bleed themselves to death in this endless conflict. The Capellan Confederation will waste no more lives in pursuit of an empty throne that no one would obey even if we did hold it."

She was prepared for opposition on this point: protests of pride and of tradition. But none materialised. Inside her head Elizabeth wondered if it had been this easy for Cecilia Kurita to pursue peace instead of war.

**Tamar, Radstadt Prefecture  
Alshain District, Draconis Combine  
21 June 3024**

The red _Victor_ sprawled on the ground in front of the Kell Hounds, the charge it had led broken by the fall of the Assault Mech. Patrick Kell would have taken more satisfaction in the sight if the ground that the DCMS mechwarriors were falling back over wasn't littered with the wreckage of the Tamar Tigers. Selvin Kelswa was somewhere amid the ruins, his _Crusader_ lost in the maze of twisting ridges.

A flicker of grey caught his eye and he saw grey-painted battlemechs forming up on a ridge well outside the range of the Kell Hounds. The new arrivals were acting as a rallying point for the retreating Sword of Light. "Looks like the Hotheads couldn't stop Yorinaga Kurita, " he observed.

"I had a feeling that they wouldn't." The natural movements of the Kell Hounds had scattered them during the battle and Morgan had elected to place his _Archer_ next to his brother's _Thunderbolt_ while they regrouped. As the commander of the Second Battalion, Salome Ward's _Wolverine_ was nearby but she was still keeping an ostentatious distance from Morgan except when their military duties demanded it. "I guess it's time."

"You don't have to do this Morgan. We're not surrounded and we aren't even all that badly outnumbered this time. We could fall back towards the Donegal Guards and link up with then."

"I don't think that would be wise." Morgan's voice was almost serene. "At least part of the Legion of Vega is in our rear area and the chances are quite good that they could slow us up enough for the other DCMS forces to catch up. If it comes to a general fight, we have better odds here."

"But you don't think it will come to that?"

"The attack on Tamar has failed, Patrick. Yorinaga knows that he doesn't have to make another attack to accomplish that. If he's going to fight us now, when we don't have any strategic option but to withdraw offworld, it's because he has another objective."

"You?" Patrick asked.

"Me."

"That's... kind of egocentric of you, Morgan."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

Patrick's shoulders slumped. "You're not wrong. Dammit."

The _Archer_s arm rose in salute. "Colonel Kell."

"Colonel Kell," Patrick returned in a hollow voice.

Morgan started to walk his _Archer_ forwards, slowly. Deliberately. Making no effort to hide. He had travelled no more than a hundred metres before a 'Mech broke away from the Kuritan ranks. A red _Warhammer_, familiar from four years before on this very world.

Yorinaga Kurita and Morgan Kell stopped their battlemechs somewhat under a kilometer apart. It was hard to tell from a distance for Patrick's sensors could not detect either and he was using only the telescopic functions of his visual sensors to trace the two red Battlemechs.

"What is he doing?" Salome asked. "He can't mean to fight Yorinaga again!"

"Unless I guess my guess, that's exactly what they have in mind."

The woman's 'Mech jerked awkwardly as she moved up to stand next to Patrick. "It doesn't make sense. No one has anything to gain here: they don't have the numbers to take us on this ground and we're sure not going to be pushing them off Tamar this year."

"This isn't about Tamar." Patrick sighed. "I wish like hell Akira Kurita had never dragged Morgan out of Zaniah."

"Most of the regiment think it's the only think he's done right in his life, starting from being born in the Combine."

"The way Brand goes on, more like he was conceived. But they're wrong. He's a good officer and he's loyal to his salt: otherwise do you think he'd be standing here with us instead of on the other side of the field with his dad?"

"He might just be crazy," Salome observed. "That special, hereditary kind of crazy that runs in mechwarrior families." She'd know - Wards had fought for the Commonwealth since the fall of the Star League.

Patrick grunted. "Just keep your battalion under control. It's starting."

It was a strange fight to watch. Any mechwarrior could draw conclusions about another mechwarrior from the way that the other's 'Mech moved and it was plain to the observers that both were excellent; but whatever effect was inhibiting Patrick's targeting system was clearly affecting them as well, both were missing what should have been relatively easy shots as they closed in on each other. Without the sophisticated computers assistance, this would be settled at point-blank ranges where neither could miss.

Morgan's _Archer_ was better armoured than the _Warhammer_ but in this sort of close quarters brawl, its massive missile bays would be ineffectual as the LRMs would not have time to arm themselves. Nonetheless, he scored the first hits, a meagre handful of missiles out of his second volley cratering armour across the _Warhammer_.

Having paced himself, shooting first one and then the other PPC, it was with his third attempt, this time with both PPCs firing, that Yorinaga Kurita scored a hit, blasting more than half a ton of armour away from the _Archer_'s right arm.

As the range dropped below two hundred metres, Morgan's missile pods closed up and he fell back on firing with his lasers. However, as he scaled a low ridge, closing in, Yorinaga came to a halt and fired a carefully placed salvo: one PPC hitting the _Archer_'s right arm again, the chest lasers and machineguns tearing through more armour and then a salvo of short range missiles crashing into the 'Mech. One struck the exposed structural beam that made up the core of the _Archer_'s upper right arm and the forearm spun away, taking with it one of Morgan's forward lasers.

Apparently undaunted, Morgan pushed his 'Mech faster and crossed the last hundred metres at almost the full speed that the heavy battlemech was capable of, despite the incline of the ground. Overheated by Yorinaga's salvo the other Mech couldn't evade fast enough and the elder Kell led with the right shoulder of the _Archer_ as he ploughed deliberately into the _Warhammer_.

Both 'Mechs fell to the ground but the _Archer_ was on top. Without bothering to stand, Morgan wrestled his 'Mech forward, kicking at the ground for leverage, and then brought his left arm around.

"Did he just punch Yorinaga's cockpit?" Salome asked.

"I don't think so." Patrick had had a better angle. "I think... he's covering the faceplate. Yorinaga can't eject while he's doing that."

Neither of the battlemechs moved for a long moment. On both sides of the field, mechwarriors muttered and tried to obtain a better view.

And then searing white plasma flared as it melted its way out of the block torso of the _Archer_. It engulfed the battered battlemech... and then the adversary pinned beneath it was also consumed by the explosion.

Try as he might, Patrick Kell could see no trace of an ejection from his brother's battlemech.

**Imperial City, Luthien  
Pesht District, Draconis Combine  
9 July 3024**

"Samsonov and Yorinaga in one battle?" Jasmine asked in shock.

"Something like that," Cecilia agreed wearily. "The Kell Hounds have withdrawn from Tamar and the fighting is going our way on Sevren so the loss hasn't been disastrous. I think I'll have to send Hirushi forwards to take control of Alshain but the local commanders have taken care of most of the immediate problems."

"I can't believe that anyone could defeat Yorinaga in combat. Now that Takashi is gone."

Cecilia diplomatically ignored the slight pause before the qualification. Jasmine was usually immaculate in her disposition but the surprising news and perhaps the prolonged influence of Hirushi Shotugama were relaxing her a little. It was inconceivable to think that she might be getting old. "The Divine Wind took him. It's very difficult to survive against a warrior willing to perish in order to slay."

"Ah." Takashi's widow seemed to shake off her initial reaction. "Then there is no one to seek vendetta upon?"

"Vendetta? For a duel that both warriors chose to fight? I don't approve of that on principle. And besides, that's young Akira's choice. He was there, apparently, along with Kell's brother. If they didn't fight then, I don't suppose that they will now."

"That does raise the question of what policy to pursue," pointed out Tomoe. She and Cecilia were scheduled for a run on the palace's gunnery ranges later on in the day so both wore mechwarrior shorts and halters under light robes as they lunched with Jasmine.

The Coordinator nodded. "I've mentioned to a few officials that I regard the current condition of the Lyran border an acceptable state of affairs. If that doesn't get a message to Tharkad then I will allow Precentor Tejh to play peacemaker as he so determinedly pretends he wants to."

"What is he really up to then?" asked Jasmine in surprise.

"Fomenting strife as far as I can tell. As if I didn't have enough members of the nobility presenting me with 'master plans' to take advantage of Davion's lowered guard. And the Azami..." The Azami had been rather accepting of a Coordinator being their supreme lord as long as that Coordinator was a man. Cecilia was less popular with them despite the fact that her policies were precisely the same with regard to their planet and their religion as that of her predecessors: leave them to their own business as long as they didn't cause problems for her. "Come to think of it, why is he even bothering?"

Jasmine smiled. "You're actually doing very well. Many of the nobility think highly of you, for the prosperity that you have brought them. Granted, there are many who would prefer a man but most agree that your reign has been welcome after the iron grip of my husband Takashi and his father Hohiro. For every man at court who professes insincere respect for the Lord Dragon, I would reckon there to be two that admire the wisdom that 'their Lady Dragon' has brought to the throne."

Cecilia shrugged modestly.

"The lower classes think similarly fondly of you," Tomoe added. "Although would insist that you are _their_ 'Lady Dragon' and not that of the nobles."

"This isn't a popularity contest."

"That's a shame, you might have been able to contend in Elizabeth Liao's election as Regent."

"The Confederation is an oligarchy, not a democracy," Cecilia reminded her lover. "And Elizabeth mostly got her job because she married Maximilian Liao. Do you really think I'd ever be that desperate?"

The other two women laughed at the idea. "But I do wonder if you will accept the offer by the new Precentor Sian - what's her name, Sharilar Mori? - to negotiate a peace treaty between you and Regent Liao? I understand that your 'friend' Myndo approves of her."

Cecilia smiled. "Well it's not as if there are many planets under her control that we can still reach. And making an agreement with her might keep her from giving them all to Davion."

"I thought you liked Prince Davion," Jasmine said mildly.

She paused before replying. "I do, but this is business. I might agree to one or two worlds being ceded to the Federated Suns but only if there's something it in for me."

**ComStar First Circuit Compound  
Hilton Head Island, North America, Terra  
16 August 3024**

A lesser man might have been stammering with rage. Julian Tiepolo had better control of himself than that.

"Was there something unclear about my instructions to you?" he asked mildly. "I would have thought 'encourage strife and factionalism' was fairly transparent about excluding the negotiation of peace treaties and allowing your particular charges to secure their positions."

Myndo Waterly met his gaze evenly, Sharilar Mori at her side. "We have salvaged what we could from an otherwise fruitless situation. Duncan Marik has the prestige of bringing a large swathe of the Capellan Confederation into the League but no other prospects for the military action which is his forte. The chances are excellent that he will clash internally with Duggan Marik, who is now placing support behind his sister Therese as he cannot expect to serve as Captain-General in his crippled condition."

"The military situation of the Capellan Confederation is far more dire than they have allowed to be known," added Sharilar Mori. "In excess of thirty percent of the CCAF has been destroyed in action or has defected to states that they were at war with. Continued conflict would have left the Capellan Confederation divided between the League, Suns and Combine with none of the fracturing that was hoped for at the start of the year. By enabling a peace treaty we have preserved the Capellan state as a faction and engineered the creation of a separate state in the form of the Chesterton Protectorate. With the principle of establishing smaller buffer states in place, it will be a precedent we can push for on future occasions."

Ulthan Everson, the towering blond a fittingly teutonic representative to the Lyran Commonwealth, cleared his throat. "I would have to agree that the... unsatisfactory peace - at least in the eyes of factions at the Lyran court - has led to increasing conflict there. Morasha Kelswa has taken up her father's goal of liberating Tamar and since Katrina Steiner has, in her eyes, failed to deliver this, she is moving into closer alliance with the Lestrade faction. I am, of course, offering discreet encouragement and would reckon the chances are perhaps one in three that Frederick Steiner will spearhead an effort to overthrow Katrina Steiner by force in the next five years. We can therefore look to the possibility of a civil war there."

There was a grudging nod of acceptance from the Primus. His unhappiness still evident, he turned towards Vandel Huthrin. "And what of your efforts in the Federated Suns. Your plan for Michael Hasek-Davion..."

"Backfired critically." The Precentor of New Avalon was unflinching in the admission. "The programming provided to the doppelganger by the Maskirova was too good: Michael Hasek-Davion has a known phobia of _Battlemaster_ battlemechs and of deep water dating back to an incident shortly before his father's death in 3013. Faced with both of these conditioned phobias, the man suffered a mental breakdown and very nearly killed Morgan Hasek-Davion."

"I trust that you have taken care that our connection to the operation will not be traced?"

"It has been done. All evidence within the Federated Suns has been tampered with to suggest that the imposter was put in place by someone inside the Suns government: given that the _faux_-duke complied with Hanse Davion's strategic desires, this is plausible and may lead to the new Hasek-Davion filling his father's shoes as an enemy to the First Prince. In the Capellan Confederation, Chandra Ling has been encouraged to clean up her side of the operation and ROM assure me that anything she misses, they will take care of."

Sharilar Mori cleared her throat. "I believe that Chandra Ling may have suspicions that our agents who assisted them may be connected to ComStar. As a precaution, I request permission to have ROM remove her."

"Denied. She's as close to internal opposition as Liao has at the moment."

Tiepolo fell silent, walking back across the chamber to stand in the pool of light cast by sunlight streaming through the stained glass window. "How is it," he asked out loud, "that the Draconis Combine, noted through the centuries as being unrepentantly misogynist, is the most stable of the Successor States when it is ruled by a woman?"

"Perhaps we should be glad that it is not a matriarchal society," Everson observed wryly and bowed slightly towards Myndo and Mori. "No doubt they would rule the universe by now if they were."

Myndo smiled slightly. "You do recall that Cecilia Kurita has two daughters, I hope."

Precentor Tharkad blinked and then laughed. "Indeed. We should consider ourselves fortunate that it is her son who is the Heir-Designate."

"So was the last Jon Kurita," the Combine-born Precentor reminded him. "The only son of Coordinator Miyogi Kurita, more than a hundred years ago. After his father was assassinated, Jon Kurita was arrested by ISF officers working for his cousin Taragi and put to death. Taragi took the Dragon Throne and is the direct ancestor of the current Kurita dynasty. It's an interesting choice of name by Cecilia - she could hardly be unaware of the symbolism."

"A reminder to her son, perhaps: the greatest threat to any Coordinator has always been treason amongst his own officers."

If Tiepolo felt any foreboding at the thought of a leader removed by ambitious rivals, he showed no sign of it. "Very well, if we have not made the desire progress, we have nonetheless made some progress with Blake's great work. Let us discuss our plans for the future in more detail..."

**Small World, Addicks PDZ  
Draconis March, Federated Suns  
29 October 3024**

Small World was not unaccustomed to changes of ownership as the Succession Wars flowed over the relatively minor world. A year before it had been part of the Capellan Confederation, now it was part of the Federated Suns. Who would rule them next year did not immediately concern the populace.

The only likely alternative to the rule of House Davion raised her glass in toast. "To our children."

Hanse Davion raised his own glass and when Nelitha followed suite, the three clinked glasses and then drank. Officially they were there to smooth over a lamentable incident in early August where a jumpship carrying smugglers had misjumped into the Thestria system and been seized by the unsympathetic planetary chairman.

The truth, of course, was that Cecilia had taken the opportunity to visit the Federated Suns and meet Hanse's wife. The isolated manor house on Small World was a local landmark for its gardens and the three royals - accompanied by two nannies and three infant children - had commandeered it for a picnic on the rather thin justification of informal talks while functionaries debated the exact terms under which the jumpship and its crew might be repatriated.

"All our children," Nelitha added, placing one hand happily over her belly, although there was nothing showing as yet.

Cecilia blinked and then smiled. "Congratulations, although I hope for your sake it isn't twins."

"Personal experience?" Hanse asked, nodding towards where the one year old Sanethia Kurita was experimenting with crawling and her brother was fast asleep, apparently quite unaware that Gaelle Davion was attempting to clamber over him. In fairness to the young heir of the Draconis Combine, the six month old girl wasn't having much success.

"Oh yes." Cecilia looked over at Nelitha. "If he's given you twins, I suggest hitting him over the head with something heavy."

"Is that what you did?"

There was a slight edge to the smile that Cecilia directed at the princess. "Actually having twins was my idea. They couldn't be fathered in the absence of a father, you see, but fortunately I had the necessary samples in storage. Twins simply seemed prudent as I've no surety of having the time to manage a pregnancy again before it's too late." That assertion might have seemed overly pessimistic as she was only in her mid-thirties, but she had had to wait almost a decade between children so perhaps it was not as strange as it seemed.

"Then their father is..." Nelitha tailed off uncomfortably.

"He was marginally acceptable if I was still simply a minor branch of the dynasty. It was not possible to marry him once I was Coordinator and now even if I was free to, it wouldn't be possible."

Hanse noted yet again that Cecilia was a smooth operator: she hadn't said anything that wasn't technically true and yet... Nelitha made as if to offer comforting shoulder to the Kurita and then thought better of it.

"So did you bring your _Grand Dragon_?" Hanse asked casually. His change of subject wasn't _just_ to avoid a potentially dangerous subject. Nelitha was not aware of the actual identity of his elder daughter, although he wasn't such a louse as to have proposed marriage without letting her know that one existed.

Cecilia took his meaning immediately. "Hanse, that was a decade ago when we were young and foolish."

"That wasn't a denial."

"Of course I brought my battlemech. What do you take me for?" Her grin was wicked.

Nelitha cleared her throat. "You'll power down your weapons and use training ammunition." It was _not_ a request.

Cecilia's lips twitched and she turned to the princess. "Mrs. Davion, can Hanse come out to play...?"

THE END


End file.
